


Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

by indiefic



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating, F/M, Hydra experimented on Peggy, Modern Day, Peggy and Bucky have a very messed up Maximoff thing going on, Peggy has superpowers, Steve married the waitress, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-26 07:24:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4995529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiefic/pseuds/indiefic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America’s golden boy is a perfect soldier and a good man.  But as it turns out, he’s a shitty husband.  Sometimes doing the right thing for the wrong reasons only makes everything worse.</p><p>Starts during Captain America: the Winter Soldier.  The Winter Soldier didn't come after Steve alone.  He brought his sister and she has her own agenda.  Story continues through Avengers: Age of Ultron</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, Buddy,” Steve says, leaning down to scoop the little boy into his arms.  The little boy goes eagerly, smiling brightly as Steve hugs him close and presses a kiss to his chubby cheek.

 

Ashley looks over at them, a small smile on her lips.  “You’re late,” she says, not an accusation so much as a comment.  She’s stirring a pot on the stove.

 

Steve sighs, taking a seat at the small breakfast table.  “Op took a little longer than I expected,” he says wearily.

 

She looks over at him, a frown puckering her brow.  “You okay?”

 

He nods and smiles.  He can’t tell her, at least not in detail.  Not because it’s classified, though it is.  But mostly because she won’t understand.  She doesn’t get his life and usually he’s glad for that.  She isn’t a soldier.  She doesn’t know war.  She’s a mother and a wife and Steve takes his duty to protect her very seriously.

 

But he does occasionally wish he had a sympathetic ear.  Steve is so damn sick of being Fury’s janitor.  He could have wrung Nat’s neck when he caught her backing up those files on the bridge when she was supposed to be helping Rumlow with the hostages.

 

Ashley sets down the spoon and crosses the room to him, kissing his forehead.  Steve smiles.  She’s a good woman.  A good mother.  He knows she’d be a good wife.  If he gave her a real shot at it.

 

In Steve’s arms, JJ squirms until Steve sets him down.  The little boy grabs his hand and tugs him toward the toys in the living room.  Steve looks up at Ashley and shrugs.  “Duty calls.”

 

In the living room, Steve helps JJ stack blocks.  Rather, Steve stacks the blocks as high as he can before JJ knocks them down, squealing in delight and yelling for more.  

 

They look alike, he and JJ, or so everyone says.  JJ’s hair is lighter, blonder, but they have the same eyes, according to Ashley.  Steve guesses the serum really did change his genetics, because JJ doesn’t seem to have any of the problems Steve had as a kid.  No failure to thrive, no respiratory issues.  He’s bigger than his peers, faster, but not enough to draw attention.  Not yet, anyway.

 

Steve loves his son more than he dreamed himself capable of loving anyone or anything.  As much as he regrets the mistakes he made with Ashley, he can never regret JJ.  Steve doesn’t know how he would have survived the last couple of years without his boy.

 

Steve was a mess when they thawed him out.  Seventy years, gone in a flash.  Hell, he hadn’t even had a chance to mourn Bucky and then he found out he had to mourn the entire goddamn world.  Everyone was gone.  Dugan, Morita, Falsworth, Jones, Denier.  All of the Howlies were dead and gone.  Phillips was gone.  Howard was gone.

 

Peggy was gone.  

 

That was the hardest one to take, of the new crop.  Just as bad as Bucky.  It filled him with bitter regret and more than a little rage.  Peggy went missing shortly after him, on an op to try and find the bomber’s wreckage.  Seems they’d both missed their date.

 

Steve had tried to fit into this new life in Fury’s brave new world.  He found that little cafe.  Ashley was there.  She was sweet on him, he knew, in some abstract way.  But he was so numb, inside and out, that the idea of pursuing something with her was unthinkable.  He barely felt human.

 

And then Loki came to town.  Steve had never seen destruction like that.  Not even in the war.  Flying monsters from the other side of the universe ... it just ... He had absolutely no point of reference for that.  No one did.  The chaos, the fear.  And then he’d seen Ashley, in that bank.  And she’d seen him and realized who he was.

 

During the battle, Steve felt a sense of belonging, a sense of competence.  Even in the absolute absurdity of the situation, he’d known what to do, how to break down the problem, how to allocate resources, how to win.  The team had finally come together.  They were a volatile band of dysfunctional misfits.  But they made Steve feel less alone.  For a while, at least.

 

In the aftermath, Steve was lost again.  He had more purpose, but he was still so goddamn lonely.  In a way that surrounding himself with people couldn’t fix.  He’d gone looking for Ashley.  He didn’t know why.  To make sure she was okay.  To see a familiar face.  To have someone recognize him, other than from a smartphone app.

 

He absolutely had not intended for it to happen.  He didn’t think Ashley had either.  But one thing led to another and they ended up in bed together.  It wasn’t magical.  It wasn’t love.  But it did chase away the cold for a little while.

 

Steve knew times were different, but he couldn’t be casual about it.  It just wasn’t who he was.  So he and Ashley were together.  At first it was good, really good. Ashley was a really great gal.  She was smart and funny and caring.  She thought his quirks, as she called them, were cute and she patiently explained the twenty-first century to him.  He really didn’t know what he would have done without her.  

 

But the more time he spent with her, the more obvious it became that they were never going to bridge the chasm of time that separated them.  Though they were physically the same age, Steve was chronologically older than her grandfather, who was already dead.  Steve didn’t get Ashley’s reference points.  She definitely didn’t get his reference points.  Steve was a soldier.  And what, exactly, it meant to be a soldier seemed to be evolving on a daily basis.  Nothing was straightforward in this time.

 

Steve decided to end it, despite knowing how much it was going to hurt her.  It seemed the best option for both of them to move on while they could still salvage something.  But then, Ashley told him she was pregnant.  And he did the only thing he could do, he asked her to marry him.  And she said yes.  And seven months later, James Joseph Rogers, JJ,  was born in Brooklyn.  

 

Shortly after JJ was born, they relocated to Virginia, just outside D.C. and Steve officially went to work for SHIELD.  Ashley wanted more kids.  Steve didn’t.  He was a shitty husband and he knew it.  He wished like hell he could fix it, but he didn’t know where to begin.  Ashley wasn’t the right dance partner.  And all of that was on _him_ , not her.  His mistake, for pursuing something he had no business pursuing.  But they both had to live with it.

 

So, he’s gone a lot.  That’s legitimate.  Work.  Fury creates no end of messes for him to clean up.  And even when he’s home, he can’t discuss his life with her.  So they are left with this stifling politeness, tempered by some real affection.  But it’s not enough.  Not enough for a marriage, not enough for a lifetime.  They have JJ.  Steve knows that without his boy, the marriage would have fallen apart long ago.  He hates that.  But it is just how it is.  

 

As Natasha says, he is learning to be okay with things not being okay.  Though he still doesn’t like it.  Not one bit.

 

* * *

 

Ashley is in the hallway as Steve creeps out of JJ’s room.  The little boy is finally asleep.  She looks up at him.  “Coming to bed?”

 

Steve rubs the back of his neck with his hand.  “I’m not tired,” he says.

 

She looks down at her sock covered feet.  “You’re never tired.”

 

“It’s the serum,” he says, more gruffly than he intends.  “I don’t need much sleep.  I can’t do anything about it.”

 

“I know,” she says patiently.  “Just ... take care, okay?  You _look_ tired.”  She takes a step and stops.  “The washer’s making that noise again.  Maybe you can look at it?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Steve says softly.  

 

She turns back to the bedroom and Steve feels like a complete shitheel.  Ashley loves him.  He knows that.  He just can’t reciprocate the way she wants, no matter how hard he tries, or how much he does the right thing.

 

He stands there a while longer and then shrugs.  He turns off the lights in the apartment and heads to bed.  Ashley’s already tucked in, her back to him as he undresses and tosses his clothes in the hamper.

 

When he climbs into bed, she immediately turns toward him and he pulls her close.  Steve likes sex as much as the next guy.  Ashley is a beautiful girl.  And more than that, this is part of it.  This is the for better and for worse.  Not that it’s a chore.  It’s not.  

 

And Ashley has more than gone out of her way to try and please him in that department.  The things she’s suggested, offered ... Steve had no idea.  He still doesn’t know if that’s the modern times, or if things have always been like that between husbands and wives.  He’s pretty sure she was grasping, trying to find some way to connect with him, to make him happy.  When he made it clear he didn’t need anything special, she seemed relieved.  

 

* * *

 

Ashley’s at yoga when Steve leaves the Triskellion after his depressing conversation with Fury.  Steve swings by the studio and picks JJ up from the daycare.  He and JJ sneak in the back of the yoga room and find Ash’s cubicle, swapping his keys for hers, so he will have the carseat to take JJ home.  She sees him in the mirror and they nod to each other.

 

JJ is very intent on telling Steve about a kind of cat that poops coffee.  Steve’s pretty sure that something’s being lost in translation, but he’s learned it's best to not ask questions.  There are few things as humbling as being treated like an idiot by a two year old.  

 

Steve holds JJ close.  He can’t stop thinking about Fury’s new helicarriers.  What the hell is this world coming to?  This isn’t right.  His son can’t grow up in a world like this, where people can be punished because some computer algorithm thinks they might do something wrong someday.

 

* * *

 

Steve and JJ stop at the V.A. on the way home.  Steve’s pretty sure the girls at the desk are more impressed with JJ than with him, but that’s fine.

 

“Ya got a puppy in there too somewhere?” Sam teases, shaking his head as the girls coo over JJ.

 

“Nah,” Steve says.  “We live in an apartment.  No room.  I don’t like little dogs.”

 

Sam snorts, shaking his head. He turns back to Steve and his expression sobers.  “I didn’t realize you were married, man.”

 

Steve holds up his left hand.  “Rings are sort of an occupational hazard.”

 

Sam nods.

 

“What?” Steve asks, knowing there’s more.

 

Sam shakes his head quickly.  “Nah, man.  Nothin’.”

 

“Ah, come on Counselor, I know there’s something,” Steve pushes.

 

Sam looks at him, lips pursed together.  “It’s common,” he says.  “It’s a way to cope.  Finding someone, having kids.  It’s how a lot people try and uh ... become part of the world again.”

 

Steve shrugs.  “Yeah,” he says.  “JJ’s done more to defrost me than any medical procedure.”  He takes a deep breath.  “Plus, whenever someone explains something to him about how the world works, I learn something.  Makes me feel like less of an idiot.”

 

* * *

 

Ashley sits up in bed.  “JJ?”

 

Steve puts his hand on her shoulder.  “It wasn’t JJ,” he says quietly.  “Go back to sleep.  I’ll check.”

 

Steve grabs his shield and creeps down the hallway in bare feet.  He peeks in JJ’s room.  The little boy is sound asleep.

 

It isn’t precisely relief Steve feels when he finds Nick Fury in his living room.  He flicks on the light and goes still.  Holy shit.

 

Fury flicks the light off again quickly.  Steve only half listens to the words he’s saying because whatever they are, they’re not for Steve’s benefit.  He looks at the display on Fury’s phone.  He doesn’t know if it’s terror or relief when he sees the words.  

 

SHIELD COMPROMISED

 

Steve doesn’t learn much of substance before the shots tear through the living room wall, and Nick.  JJ’s room is on the other side of the building, thank God.  Steve is crouched there, over Nick, when Kate, the neighbor, breaks down the door.  Steve watches as she calls it in.  

 

“I’ve got him,” Kate - Agent 13 - says.  “We’ll get your family somewhere safe.”

 

Steve doesn’t trust her.  He doesn’t trust anyone, but there’s a shooter out there on the loose.  

 

* * *

 

Steve catches the shield and the momentum sends him skidding several feet backwards.  He runs to the edge of the building and sees the shooter, already on the ground, stories below.  There’s a car waiting for him, a woman standing next to it, in the open driver’s side door.  She’s staring up at him on the roof.  As Steve watches, the shooter climbs into the passenger’s seat.  

 

The woman is still there, on the street, watching him, dark hair blowing in the breeze.

 

He hasn’t seen her in more than seventy years, but he would know her anywhere.

 

“ _Peggy_?” he says, before he can stop himself.

 

She flinches having heard him, even at significant distance.  She finally moves, climbing behind the wheel and tearing away into the night.

 

* * *

 

“Are you guys okay?” Steve asks.

 

“We’re fine,” Ashley says.  “We’re with Pepper.  I just ... I don’t understand.  What happened.  Are you okay?  There was so much blood.”

 

“I’m fine,” Steve says.  “But it’s bad, Ash.  I need to know you and JJ are somewhere safe.  Please, just trust Tony.  He’s a jerk, but he’ll keep you safe.”

 

On the other end of the line, she sighs.  “Call me when you can, okay?”

 

“I promise.”

 

Steve is sliding the phone back in his pocket when Natasha walks in, in a daze.  On the other side of the glass, they’re cutting Nick Fury open.  Hill is there, expression tight, eyes glassy.

 

In less than an hour, Steve’s entire life has changed.  Again.

  
END CHAPTER


	2. Chapter 2

Two Days Later

 

“Look, I didn’t know about Barnes,” Fury says.  “Or his sister.”

 

Steve shakes his head in disgust. “If you had known, would you have told me?” he asks.  “Or would you have compartmentalized that too?”

 

“Whoever Barnes used to be,” Fury says, “he’s not that man anymore.  He’s a thing, Rogers.  They’ve taken him apart and put him back together so many times he’s not even human anymore.”  He sighs wearily.  “And her.  Shit, we thought they got rid of her decades ago.  She was too dangerous for them to handle.  I can’t believe they have her here now.  Either they’re sure they’re going to win, or they’re willing to risk it all on this one shot with them.”

  
  


* * *

 

She leans back against the wall, the uneven surface of the cold, metal, safety deposit boxes biting into the exposed flesh of her back.  She smiles, baring her teeth, liking the sharp pain.  It reminds her she is alive, awake, unfettered.  It reminds her she is beholden to no man for her fate.

 

She cradles him to her, rocking him, trying to soothe him.  Tremors still wrack his frame.  Such a blunt tool to try and affect such a subtle shift.  They never learn, none of them.  Decades pass, scientists come and go, but their methods remain brutish and inelegant.  Ineffective as well.

 

“Brother,” she whispers into his ear, reaching him so easily where their methods could not.

 

His flesh and bone hand grips her, biting into her arm.  “I knew him,” he whispers.  “We knew him.”  

 

She nods, rocking him again, reaching out to his mind, calming him.    She sees the memory in his head, the man, the soldier with the shield.  The same man who stood on the edge of the building and called down to her.  She knows him too.  She’s remembered him, even when she has forgotten herself.  The hero who sacrificed everything.  Cap.  Steve.   _Punk_.  That last thought belongs to brother.  

He was never punk to her.   _Partner_?  Perhaps.

 

He was dead.  Gone.  She remembers the ice, the cold.  She remembers searching for him.  She remembers that the search was the only thing that kept her going.  She would find him.  She would save him.

 

And then ... nothing.

 

They took her.  She knows that much.  The memories aren’t hers, but stolen by her from the men who did this to her.  She sees herself in the memories, from the outside, lying on the metal table like a broken doll, arms and legs askew, mouth slack, eyes vacant.  Another test subject with little hope for survival.

 

She sees him, brother, the one wrapped so tightly around her now.  He was there, unwilling and barely controlled.  She should have died.  That’s what the doctors expected.  It’s what Reinhardt expected.  But she has never been one to meet the expectations of feeble minded men.  She lived through the torture they called _experiments_.

 

Brother kept her alive.  His blood.  In return, she took his memories, tucking them inside her for safekeeping.  She kept him alive, stable, grounded as he could be, by making him less than what he had been, by making him vacant, malleable.  Their spirits were bound together by memories of a life they shared, a man they both loved, a fight neither of them could abandon.  They were tied together by necessity, neither able to exist without the other.  

 

Twins, they called them.  

 

And they gave them such horrible gifts.

 

The men, the ones here now, the ones who hurt brother.  They don’t want her here.  She can feel the fear in their minds.  Other words come, unbidden.  Unpredictable, dangerous, uncontrollable, liability.  She smiles.  They have no idea.

 

They gave her these gifts, but they fear them, and by extension, her.  She is not like brother.  She is not _enhanced_.  She is something else entirely.  Something they cannot fathom, much less control.  She spent so much time slumbering, alone, locked away in ice and dreams.  

 

But the more brother was without her, the more he degraded, the more difficult he became to control.  They used him less and less, setting them both aside to gather dust like relics of a bygone time.

 

But they need him one last time.  To even a debt started seventy years ago.  And this time, they had to bring her along too.  She feels their fear, out there on the other side of the bars.  As if the bars could hold her at this point.  

 

“ _We_ know him,” brother says again.

 

She presses against his mind one of the memories she has held so dear, of two young men on the day of a funeral.  Together until the end of the line.  “Yes,” she whispers.

 

* * *

 

Steve wakes in a fog of pain.  He’s clutching at her, gasping.  Her hand is against his cheek, soothing, her voice is calm.  “Don’t move.”

 

He blinks up at her.  His head is in her lap and he stares at her.  Her hair is loose, falling across her face and part of his chest.  Peggy.  Over her shoulder, standing there, staring down at him is Bucky.  

 

He paces in tight circles, like a caged animal.  Surely he must have been the one to drag Steve out of the water, but he doesn’t seem coherent.  He starts toward Steve, and Peggy whips around, snapping at him in Russian, hissing.

 

Bucky stops, still staring down at Steve, his face a volatile mix of emotions Steve can’t name.

 

Peggy turns back to him, presses her hand to his chest, where the pain is excruciating.  The sensation of suffocating lessens and he can finally take a breath.  She leans forward and presses a kiss to his forehead.  “ _Sleep_ ,” she whispers.

 

Everything goes black.

 

* * *

 

Steve wakes, days later, in the intensive care unit.  Sam is there.  Ashley and JJ are safe, out of harm’s way.  He owes Tony, bigtime.

 

When they found him on the shore of the Potomac, he was alone.  But Steve knows what he saw.  He knows _who_ he saw.  They saved him, Bucky and Peggy.  He sees them whenever he closes his eyes.  He dreamed of them when he was unconscious.

 

Fury talked about their programming, how they were unstable.  Considering they rescued their target, Steve believes that they aren’t good at following orders.  But he doesn’t know much more about them.  He doesn’t know who they are now.  They didn’t appear to be themselves.

 

He has to find them.  Even if finding them only leads to more questions.

* * *

 

Steve glares at Natasha.  “Tell me what you know.”

 

Natasha frowns, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest.  There are boxes everywhere, stacked around the townhouse.  He and Ash haven’t had time to unpack since moving to Brooklyn.  

 

“I already told you,” Natasha says.  “The Winter Soldier.  Soviet master assassin.”

 

“Stop lying to me,” Steve snaps, smacking the counter.

 

Natasha takes a deep breath and shakes her head.  Steve can almost hear her thought processes.  She owes him and she knows it.  He wishes like hell she would just tell him the truth because it’s the right thing to do, but he doesn’t think Natasha works that way.

 

“ _Zimnij Bliznetsy_ ,” she says in flawless Russian.  “The Winter Twins.   _Zimnij Soldát_. The Winter Soldier.    _Zimnij Vedma_.  The Winter Witch.  I don’t have any other names for them.  I ... knew him.  When I was younger.  He was instrumental in several aspects of my training.”

 

Steve knows that whatever happened between Natasha and Bucky is probably even more disturbing than he can imagine.

 

She sighs.  “They kept him on ice a lot, thawed him out for big jobs, important missions that couldn’t be trusted to anyone else.  He wasn’t just good at what he did.  He was like preternaturally good.  And strong and quick.”  She sighs.  “Physically, a lot like you.  Mentally, a lot like a fucking psychopath.”

 

“And her?” Steve asks.

 

“His sister?” Natasha asks, eyebrow arched.

 

“She’s not his sister,” Steve says.  “They’re not twins.  They’re not even related.”

 

Natasha shrugs.  “I suppose that makes the fact that they were fucking a little less disturbing.”

 

Steve ignores it.  He’ll deal with that later.  “What do you know about her?”

 

“Nothing,” Natasha says.  “They kept her around to keep him ... compliant.  Beyond that, I don’t know.  If she had skills or abilities, I don’t know what they were.  She was a big secret.  I never saw her in the flesh.”  She looks at him.  “Who is she?”

 

He shakes his head.  “A ghost.”

 

“Aren’t we all?” Natasha responds.

 

Steve knows he’s gotten everything out of Natasha that he can.  Undoubtedly, she has more secrets.  But they will remain hers alone.  He sees her out, locking the door.

 

As he turns to head up the stairs, Ashley is there at the top, staring down at him.  “Was that Natasha?”

 

“Yeah,” Steve says, climbing the stairs.  

 

Ashley holds out her hand and Steve takes it, letting her lead him back to the bedroom.

 

* * *

 

Steve wakes with a start, listening.  He was dreaming of them, of Peggy and Bucky, lost in a blizzard, huddled together.  He sits up and pulls on a pair of pajama pants.  It’s a new house, new noises, but considering how things have been going lately, he’s not taking any chances.  Beside him, Ashley is sound asleep.

 

Steve creeps down the hall and looks in on JJ, who is also asleep.  Slowly, he descends the stairs.  He stops at the bottom.  The first floor of the townhouse is one big room, open concept, the realtor said.  He can see her there by the light of the moonlight, sitting on the kitchen counter, facing him.  He doesn’t have a weapon.  He doesn’t even have his shield.  Though given the vague things Fury said about her abilities, it might not make a difference.  Bucky gave him a hell of a fight, but apparently, she’s the stronger of the two.  More dangerous.

 

Slowly, he crosses the room to her.  She just sits there, hands braced on the counter, watching him.  She’s dressed all in black.  Some sort of flowing dress that hits her mid-thigh.  Her black boots come up to her knees, leaving the patch of skin between her knee and thigh bare.  He tries not to look.

 

He walks up to her.  The only move she makes is to incline her head to look up at him.  In the dark, her eyes look perfectly black.  She looks the same, except for the fact that her hair is longer.  How is that even possible?  She didn’t get the serum.  She should be ninety-five years old.

 

They’re only inches apart.  Her knees are splayed and he stands directly in front of her.  She moves slowly, levering herself up.  Her hair brushes across his bare chest as she leans in toward him, sniffing.  

 

“You smell like her,” she says, sounding displeased.

 

He realizes he expected her to sound Russian, but she doesn't.  She sounds like Peggy.  He looks down at her, shaking his head.  He can’t read her expression, though that isn’t really anything new.  Peggy always thought she was being loud and clear with him, when in reality, he had no idea what was going on.

 

She leans forward again and this time bites at the edge of his jaw.  He startles, but doesn’t pull away.  He can hear his stubble scraping against her teeth.  He knows he should stop, but he can’t.  He just stands there.  She nips again, biting and licking, she moves to his chin and then finally pulls his bottom lip between her teeth.  He can feel her smile against his lips.  She pulls back, but not far, looking at him.

 

“You went down on her,” she says, looking up at him.  “Tasted her.  Did you make her come?”

 

He’s pretty sure he couldn’t have responded if his life depended on it.  Every bit of this is wrong.  He is married.  His wife and son are upstairs.  Peggy should be dead.  And even if she wasn’t dead, his Peggy would never say something like that.  

 

At least, he doesn’t think she would have.

 

She leans in again, her lips brushing the shell of his ear.  “Will you make me come too, _brat_?”

 

She runs her hands over his bare chest and he can’t help it, he pushes into her touch.  It’s all the encouragement she needs.  She pulls at him, wrapping her legs around his waist, twining her fingers through his hair as she kisses him deeply.

 

Touching her is electric.  Peggy.   _His_ Peggy.  The right partner.  The one he lost in the ice.  He buries his hands in her dark hair, pulling her closer, to the edge of the counter.  They slot together like they were made for one another.  She’s bare under her skirt and he shudders at the knowledge.  She came here like this, looking for him.

 

She pushes at the waistband of his pants and he helps her slide them down his hips.  He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t hesitate, he just buries himself in her.  She gasps, her fingernails biting into his upper arms.  He thrusts into her, but forces himself to slow down.  The edge should be off, but it’s not.  Not with Peggy.

 

One of his hands burrows under the folds of her dress, finding her breast, pulling the cup of her bra down so he can pinch her nipple.  She bites back a yelp, but presses into his hand.  His other hand strokes her, there, where they’re joined.  She takes a deep, gasping breath.

 

They kiss and bite, straining against one another.  Steve continues to stroke her in time with his thrusts and soon she is pulling him close, hissing through her teeth as she comes.  He follows right after, burying himself as deep as he can in her.

 

They stay where they are, gasping for breath, leaning against one another.  One of her hands toys with the hair at the nape of his neck.  The haze of euphoria hasn’t entirely faded before Steve realizes just how badly he screwed up.  Ashley is upstairs.

 

Peggy laughs softly, untwining her legs from his waist, urging him to withdraw.  He does and immediately pulls up his pants, dragging a hand roughly through his hair.

 

Peggy jumps down from the counter and presses herself against him, kissing him softly.  “I'm good at keeping secrets,” she whispers against his lips, easily reading his panic.

 

She pulls back and looks at him and all he can do is watch.  She turns toward the back door and stops.  “Brother?”

 

Steve watches, rooted to the spot, as Bucky rises from one of the living room chairs and crosses the kitchen, following her outside into the night.

 

END CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do NOT speak Russian in any way shape or form. I used google and some wikipedia pages. Profound apologies to anybody who actually speaks Russian. I have zero faith in my translations and usage.


	3. Chapter 3

“What time did you wake up?” Ashley asks Steve as walks into the kitchen.

 

“Uh, it’s been a while,” Steve says quietly.  JJ’s been awake for hours and Steve brought him downstairs to let Ashley rest.  After Steve took a shower.  There are some scratches that he hopes to God are gone by evening.  A bruise he could probably explain away.  Fingernails down his back, not so much.

 

Steve has no idea what he’s doing.  He knows, knows he fucked up.  He should tell Ashley, come clean with her right now.  But looking at her standing there in her fleece pajamas with sheep on them, pressing a kiss to JJ’s head, he can’t do it.  This is what he always thought he wanted.  A wife.  A family.  A home.  He has it.  He has it all.  And he probably threw it all away last night.

 

Ashley loves him.  And while she has to know that he doesn’t love her back in the same way, he knows that she trusts him.  If he tells her what happened, that he had sex with another woman in her house while she and JJ were sleeping ... Steve knows there’s a spine of steel underneath all of Ashley’s softness.  If she finds out he betrayed her like that, it’s over.  She’ll leave.  And she’ll probably take JJ with her.  He can’t lose his boy.  He can’t.

 

And for what?  He still can’t wrap his head around what he did with Peggy.  Steve flushes, just thinking about it, about the things she said.  She may have been Peggy once upon a time, but he doesn’t know who she is now.  And Bucky - Steve just can’t even process that.  Bucky watching them.  While he ... While they ...  It’s just so far outside his realm of possible things he doesn’t know what to do with it.  He doesn’t know how he did it.  He’s not sure he knows who he is right now.

 

* * *

 

“What does _bra_ t mean?” he asks. “In Russian?”

 

Natasha looks over at him, frowning.  “Brother,” she says.  “Why?  Where’d you hear that?”

 

He shakes his head.  He figured it was something like that and knowing makes him feel even dirtier about the other night.  Holy fucking shit, what has he gotten himself into?

 

Natasha shifts in her seat, turning toward him.  “It was her, wasn’t it?  The sister?  Did you see Barnes again?”

 

Steve frowns.

 

“You can’t do this by yourself, Steve,” Natasha says firmly.  “You’ll need help.  Barnes may remember you, but he’s not the man you knew in the war.  He’s a mess.  Volatile, unpredictable, capable of a lot of violence.  And if his sister’s with him ...”

 

“I thought you said they used her to keep him compliant,” Steve presses.

 

“They did,” Natasha replies.  “But usually it was the threat that they would do something to her if he didn’t cooperate.  I think maybe a long time ago it used to be different, she could influence him for their handlers.  I got the impression she stopped playing nice with the handlers very early in the game.  A lot earlier than Barnes.  If they could have figured out a way to get rid of her, but keep him, they would have.”

 

“So they couldn’t be separated?” Steve asks.

 

Natasha sighs.  “I don’t really know.  I gave you the file I was able to get on Barnes.  There wasn’t anything at all on the sister.  You saw that most of Barnes’ file was redacted.  I was a trainee, and sometimes Barnes amused himself with me.  I wasn’t in a position to know what the hell was going on between them and their handlers.”

 

“Maybe not,” Steve says, “but I know you and your instincts.  What do you think was going on?”

 

She frowns, looking out the window.  “I think they were scared to death of her,” she says.  “I think she was powerful and not in the way Barnes was powerful.  She had abilities beyond that of regular humans.  I know that sounds crazy, but the more I get to know people like Banner and Thor, I don’t think I was wrong.  She’s not entirely human.  Not anymore.  And they are bonded together somehow.  Dependent on one another.”

 

“Twins,” Steve says darkly.  “Even though they’re not twins.”

 

“They may not have been, but something changed her, something changed him.”  She sighs. “Who is she, really?  Because I’m sitting here telling you that she’s seriously bad news and you don't seem to be the least bit worried.  Or at least not worried in the way you should be.”

 

He looks over at her.  “She was an SSR Agent during the war.  A damn good one.  I worked with her a lot.  Bucky did too.  She’s how I found him in that Hydra base.  She blackmailed Stark’s father into flying me behind enemy lines.  If it hadn’t been for her, I never would have found Bucky.”

 

“An agent you worked with,” Natasha says, shaking her head.  “Jesus, Rogers, you’re a shit liar.”

 

* * *

She crouches down and pats his shoulder.  He wags his tail industriously.   _Maxim_.  She found him yesterday, in a shelter, dirty and abused.  She brought him home, cleaned him up, gave him structure.  He’s young.  He will rebound quickly.  He’s friendly, harmless, easily controlled.  He wants to play, but he already knows that she is not a playmate.  She is master.  She unclips the leash, knowing he will head directly for the children, seeking a playmate.

 

She watches as he bounds across the expanse of grass, a blur of yellow against the verdant green.  Some of the children cower away, but others, like the little boy, bound forward eagerly.  She’s there, the woman, Ashley, pulling the little boy out of harm’s way.  But Ashley seems to like Maxim too and she shows the little boy how to pet him.

 

Slowly, Peggy stands and then jogs toward Maxim, making excuses about how he got away.  She introduces herself to her new neighbor, Ashley, and Ashley’s son, JJ.  Peggy stares at the little boy in wonder.  He looks like Steve.  Like Steve looks now.  She doubts JJ resembles Steve at the same age.  Steve was undoubtedly smaller, sickly and pale.  JJ’s picture could be used to sell packaged babyfood or diapers.

 

Peggy looks at Ashley.  She’s pretty.  Young.  She looks tired and sad, but she’s clearly trying to make the best of it, trying to put on a brave face.  She’s not from New York.  Her vowels sound midwestern, rural.  She came to the city in search of a dream and instead found Steve.  Peggy wonders if Ashley realizes yet what a mistake that was.

 

Peggy explains that she and her brother just moved to the neighborhood and isn’t it a coincidence that they only live a few houses down from Ashley.  They exchange numbers and make arrangements to meet in the park later in the week.  Peggy turns and heads back toward the townhouse, Maxim trotting at her heels.  Ashley never saw the men who shadowed her and the boy.  She never knew the danger she was in.  Peggy wonders what Steve tells her, or doesn’t tell her.  

 

* * *

 

“I met one of our neighbors today,” Ashley says.

 

“Dog!  Dog!” JJ yells, clapping his hands.

 

Steve’s brow furrows, but he smiles.

 

“That’s right,” Ashley says encouragingly.  “She had a dog.  Do you remember what his name was?”

 

“Max!” the little boy shouts proudly.

 

Shaking his head, Steve scoops JJ up.  “You met a dog named Max.”

 

JJ nods enthusiastically.

 

“Max got away from his owner,” Ashley says, turning back to pan of brownies she’s making.  “So when she caught him, we met.  She only lives a few doors down.”

 

“That’s nice,” Steve says sincerely.  Meetings with the neighbors aren’t exactly de rigueur these days.  The entire time they lived in Virginia the only neighbor he met was Kate and she’d been assigned to watch him by Fury.

 

“Her name’s Peggy,” Ashley says, putting the brownies in the oven.  “She and her brother just moved in.”

 

Steve’s blood runs cold.  Peggy and her brother from down the street who ran into Ashley and JJ by chance in the park today.  In all honesty, he’s not sure what he’s scared of.  Scared of being caught in a lie.  Scared that Peggy or Bucky might intend to harm his family.  Both seem plausible.  And terrifying.  It was one thing for Steve to do the things he did knowing that he had a wife and kid upstairs, but if Peggy knows about them, if she went to the trouble of seeking them out ...

 

“You can take these brownies over to them later and introduce yourself,” Ashley says.

 

Steve looks at her, clears his throat.  “Is that ... a thing?” he asks.  “Do people still do that these days?  It seems a little old fashioned.”

 

Ashley looks at him, frowning and a little hurt.  “Well, I don’t know if _people_ do it,” Ashley says.  “But _I’m_ doing it.”

 

Steve has no idea what to say, so he just says, “Alright.”

 

Steve autopilots through the rest of the evening, mechanically eating dinner without tasting anything.  He gives JJ his bath and reads him a book before tucking him into bed.  And then tucking him in again fifteen minutes later when he crawls out.  And then again another twenty minutes later.  Finally, the little boy is asleep and Steve heads down to the kitchen.

 

Ashley is putting foil over the plate of brownies.  “Here,” she says, pushing them across the counter toward him.  He knows her feelings are still hurt from earlier.

 

Steve rubs the back of his neck with his hand.  “You said they live a couple doors down?”

 

“1546,” she says.

 

He nods and picks up the plate.  “I’ll, uh, be back,” he says.

 

* * *

Peggy opens the door, glances at him and then walks back into the townhouse, leaving the door open wide.  Frowning, Steve steps through the door and closes it behind himself.  The townhouse layout is a copy of his place, though the finishes aren’t as updated.  He walks to the kitchen counter and sets the plate down.  Almost immediately, a golden retriever brushes against his legs.

 

Peggy snaps something in Russian and the dog goes to a mat near the back door and lays down.

 

“My wife baked you brownies,” Steve says tersely.

 

Peggy hops up on the counter and looks at him, amused.  “My welcome present for your family isn’t so tidy,” she says.

 

Steve has no idea if she’s talking about the other night or not.  “What are you doing here?” he demands.  “What game are you playing?”

 

She arches an eyebrow at him.  “ _Game_?  I met one of my neighbors in the park.  That’s hardly a game, Steve.”

 

There’s the sound of footsteps and Steve turns to see Bucky walking across the room.  He blushes in spite of himself, still embarrassed about the other night.  Bucky doesn’t seem to have any lingering embarrassment.  His expression is perfectly bland as he crosses the kitchen, leaning back against the counter next to Peggy.  She reaches out, cards her fingers through his long hair.  Bucky sucks in a quick breath, his eyes fluttering shut.  He stands there for a moment, breathing hard and then glances at Peggy before staggering over to the couch and laying down.

 

“What did you just do?” Steve asks.

 

“I gave him back a part of himself,” she says quietly, watching Bucky intently.  She looks back to Steve.  “He’s been ... fragmented for so long that it has to be done slowly.  A piece at a time.  It will take months, if not years.”

 

“So you can fix him?” Steve asks.  “You can make him who he was ... before?”

 

She looks at Steve.  “I can try.  Now that we’re finally free from them.  They can’t play God with his mind, or put him on ice.  Never again.”

 

Steve stands there for a long time, watching Peggy, watching Bucky.  It’s clear that Bucky is unstable, unpredictable.  Steve still has no idea about Peggy.  She seems sane enough.  But she’s not the woman he knew.  He doesn’t know who she is.

 

“Look,” Steve says, “My wife and son - “

 

“There were men following them,” Peggy says blandly.  “Bad men.  With horror in their hearts.  I can show you, if you like, what they intended to do to Ashley and JJ.  It wasn’t terribly creative.  But I suspect it would have made their point quite efficiently.”

 

Steve swallows thickly.  “Men?”

 

“Hydra operatives,” she says calmly.  “Retribution, for what you and your teammates did in Washington.”

 

“And where are they now?” Steve asks.  He has to find them, stop them before they can hurt his family.

 

“In my basement,” Peggy says.  “In pieces.  Do you want to see them?”

 

Steve just stares at her.  He’s certain she’s completely serious.  “You ... stopped the men,” he says.

 

“I did,” she says.  “I would never allow anyone to harm your son.”

 

Steve nods, relieved somewhat.  “And Ashley?” he asks, not at all certain he wants the answer.

 

“Ashley seems sweet,” Peggy says, sounding sincere.  “And if I ever viewed her as an actual rival, that might be an issue.”  She cants her head to the side, studying him.  “But it doesn’t seem like that’s something I need to worry about.”

 

“I’m married,” Steve says tightly.

 

“Yes,” Peggy says, sounding bored, “I know.  Though I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.”  She frowns.  “The remains must be disposed of.  Do you know people who can assist with that?”

 

Dead assassins.  There are dead assassins in Peggy’s basement.  And yes, unfortunately, he does know people who can help with that.  “I can make a call,” he says.

 

“Do,” she presses.  “They’re starting to smell.”

 

* * *

 

Steve shuts the front door carefully, but Ashley comes to the top of the stairs, looking down at him.  “How was it?”

 

“Uh, fine,” he says.  “They liked the brownies.”  He holds up his phone.  “A work thing came up,” he says.  “I need to make a call.  You should go on to bed without me.  It’ll probably be late.”

 

Ashley frowns, but nods and heads back to the bedroom.

 

* * *

 

“Whose house is this?” Hill asks, staring at him in confusion.  

 

Steve gave her an incredibly abbreviated version of events on the phone.  Bad guys, trying to hurt his family.  Now dead bad guys.  “Uh, neighbor,” he says vaguely.  “They’re out of town.”  That’s not true.  He doesn’t know where Bucky and Peggy are, but he doubts they’ve gone far.

 

Hill looks at the bodies as men in biohazard suits load them into bags and then into canisters.  “You did this?” she asks.

 

Steve frowns.  He knows.  If the guys had been beaten to death or even decapitated with a shield, it might look like his work.  Even if he tends to shy away from lethal force, it would at least be within the realm of possibilities.  But these guys look like someone ran them through an industrial meat grinder.  He knows Hill doesn’t buy it, but the way she sighs at him, he’s pretty sure she’ll go with it.  For now.

 

Steve shakes his head.  “They were here to kill Ashley and JJ,” he says seriously.  

 

“Yeah,” she says.  “Okay.  Fine.  We’ve got it from here.”

 

END CHAPTER


	4. Chapter 4

“Max!” JJ yells, bounding across the playground.

 

“Yay,” Steve says flatly, “Max.”

 

He watches JJ embrace the dog and the dog licks JJ’s face, his tail wagging furiously.  Steve frowns, shaking his head.  Maybe they should get a dog.  He watches as Peggy slowly makes her way over to one of the wooden benches and sits down, arm draped across the back of the bench.  She’s wearing an oversized shirt and loose jacket, paired with a tiny pair of shorts.  They do great things for her legs, but they make it look like she’s not wearing pants, which he assumes is what she’s going for.  She’s wearing a pair of dark glasses and her hair is tied up in a messy bun.  She looks gorgeous, modern, like she’s someone who belongs here and now, rather than a recently defrosted Hydra operative.  He shakes his head in wonder again at the absurdity of the situation.

 

“Why don’t you guys come over here and play,” Steve calls to JJ.  The little boy bounds toward him, but keeps stopping and looking back to make sure Max is following.  Satisfied that the pair will stay in sight, Steve joins Peggy on the bench.  He leans forward, bracing his elbows against his thighs, watching JJ and the dog.  He glances over at Peggy.

 

“You would have made an abysmal spy,” Peggy says, frowning.

 

“Yeah,” Steve says, “probably true.  It’s why I’m not a spy.”

 

“What, exactly, are you these days?” she asks.  “Now that SHIELD is no more?”

 

He frowns.  “I’m still trying to figure that out,” he says.  He looks over at her again.  “And you?” he asks.  “What do you do with your time?”

 

“Oh, there are many debts which must be repaid,” she says blandly.  “It will take time.”

 

“And you can just do that?” he presses.  “You have the money and resources to spend your time checking names off a list?”

 

“Yes,” she says.  “Procuring resources isn’t difficult when one can see into the hearts and minds of men.”

 

“So that’s what you do,” he says carefully.  “You read minds?”

 

“Among other things,” she replies, her tone clipped, like she’s growing bored of the conversation.

 

He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly.  “And so what do you see when you read my mind?”

 

She removes her sunglasses, looking at him.  “I don’t need to read your mind, Steve,” she says.  “I’ve never needed to read your mind.  You’re one of the few humans whose thoughts and actions are in alignment.”

 

He frowns, pondering her statement.

 

“Oh, and now the guilt starts,” she chides.  “Honestly, Steve, I’d have thought you of all people would realize that life’s too short for regret.”

 

“Sure,” he says sarcastically, “I’m ninety-five, so why not just do whatever the hell I want, any time I want, vows and consequences be damned.”

 

She sighs and rolls her eyes.  “You were always so bloody dramatic.”

 

He loves her.  He does.  He’s resigned himself to the fact.  He will love her until he dies.  But right now, he doesn’t like her very much.  “What happened the other night was a mistake.”

 

“What happened the other night was inevitable,” she replies dryly.

 

“It can’t happen again,” he says firmly.

 

She laughs.  “Yes, well, we’ll see about that.”

 

* * *

 

A couple days later, Steve tells Ashley he's going for a run.  He is, but he intends to see Peggy first.  He wishes he had some legitimate reason, but he doesn't.  He just wants to see her.  It’s late evening.  Ashley’s busy at home.

 

As soon as Peggy opens the door, she pulls him inside, wrapping herself around him and kissing him deeply.  He wants to push her away.  He wants to think he’s better than this, but he holds her close, twines his tongue with hers and grabs her ass, hitching her higher against his body.

 

They molest each other for long minutes.  Like horny teenagers, maybe.  If Steve had ever had anyone to do this with when he’d been a teenager, this is certainly what he would have wanted.  Everything about Peggy excites him.  Her taste, her feel, the sounds she makes when he touches her.  She way she arches into his touches, always wanting more. He has literally spent years of his life fantasizing about her and the truth is that the reality is hotter than he could have imagined.

 

Because she wants him.  Not some guy with muscles.  Not Captain America.  Peggy knows who he is, the good and the bad.  She knows the skinny asthmatic he used to be.  She knows his most crushing failures, his embarrassments.  And she still wants him.

 

She pulls him toward the couch and then urges him to sit.  She stands there, looking down at him, biting down on her bottom lip.  She makes a show of pulling her shirt over her head, and tossing her bra away.  He’s touched her breasts before, but he hasn’t actually seen them, not like this and holy shit they are phenomenal.  She leans forward, bracing her palms against his thighs as she kneels between his legs.

 

He waits on some sign from her as to what she wants.  He doesn’t have to wait long.  Peggy isn’t exactly shy.  She hooks her hands behind his knees and pulls him forward, so he’s slouched down on the couch and then she goes to work on his sweats.  He’s already hard and she skims his sweatpants and shorts down his thighs with a self satisfied grin.

 

She takes him gently in hand, stroking and he groans, pushing his head back against the couch cushions.  She watches him, making sure to keep eye contact as she ducks her head and licks him from root to tip.  He hisses, his hands digging into the couch cushions as he closes his eyes.

 

“Watch me,” she says, grinning at him.  So he does.  He watches as she strokes him with her hands, as she swirls her tongue around the head of his cock and then takes him in her mouth.  She moves on him in long, languid strokes.  When she finally pulls back to the tip and releases him, his cock is glossy with saliva.  She leans forward, so his cock slots between her breasts.  She pushes her breasts together, enveloping his cock and he can’t help it, he thrusts up against her, watching as his cock appears and then recedes from between her breasts as they both move.

 

God, he likes it, but he needs more.  Seeming to understand this, she takes him in hand again, stroking, alternating her hand and her mouth, bringing him to the edge, only to back him off and then start anew.

 

He’s breathing hard, sweat beading on his upper lip.  He reaches out, strokes the hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear and she catches his hand, sucking his thumb into her mouth.

 

There’s a noise and Steve looks up, tensing.  Peggy pulls back, releasing his thumb, looking at him.  She follows his gaze to the doorway, where Bucky stands.  Peggy splays her palm against Steve’s abdomen, holding him where he is while her other hand continues to stroke his cock.

 

“Let him watch,” she says quietly.  “Why shouldn’t he see two people he loves loving each other?”

 

She dips her head again, taking him to the root.  His hands grip the couch cushions.  He’s close, so close.  She bobs again, moving her hand to cup his testicles, squeezing a little harder than is comfortable.  His breath catches and he tenses, coming.

 

She pulls back to the tip, waiting until he’s finished and then letting him slip from her mouth.  She licks her lips.  He immediately sits forward, pulling his pants up and shirt down, covering himself.  He drags a hand through his hair.  

 

“Is that what this is?” he asks, his voice hoarse, raw. “Two people loving each other?”

 

She smiles at him.  “Of course it is, Steve,” she says.  “I swallowed, didn’t it?”

 

She pushes herself to her feet and crosses the room to Bucky, pressing herself against him.  He immediately ducks his head for a lingering kiss, all teeth and tongue.  On the couch, Steve curses under his breath, shaking his head.  Hating himself.  Hating her.  Hating Bucky.  Bucky turns her, pressing her against the wall, grinding against her.  

 

Gritting his teeth in disgust, Steve leaves, slamming the door behind himself.  He goes for a run, pushing himself as hard as he can, trying to work out some of the emotional turmoil.  It doesn’t work.  What the fuck is going on?  How did he get in this mess?  He paces in front of the house for several minutes before heading inside.  

 

Ashley is in the kitchen, portioning out food for JJ’s snacks.  She looks up at him.  “You okay?” she asks.

 

He shakes his head.  There is no way he can tell her what the problem is.  

 

_Yeah, honey, you know Peggy from down the street?  Your friend from the park?  Yeah, turns out I didn’t meet her last week like I said, I’ve known her for more than seventy years.  Been completely in love with her for exactly as long as I’ve known her.  Thought she was dead, but now she’s back and completely fucked up.  She just sucked me off in her living room while her twin brother watched.  And her brother?  He’s not her brother.  Which is good, cuz she’s fucking him too.  He’s my best friend, Bucky.  Also dead.  Also completely fucked up.  I’ve known him since I was JJ’s age.  And let’s not get started on the fact that Natasha probably has PTSD courtesy of Bucky from when she was just a kid.  And even Hydra is scared shitless of Peg.  She can do more with her mind than Thor can do with lightning.  And I’m more than a little afraid she’s going to snap one day and murder you for no reason other than that I married you._

 

He can’t say any of that.  Because he’s Steve Rogers, the Hero Who Sacrificed Everything.  He’s a _Good Man_.  He has a moral compass anchored to true north.  And he’s never been more lost.  Because everything that feels right ... he knows is wrong.  And everything he knows is right ... kills a little bit of him every day.

 

Steve starts to head toward the stairs.

 

“Hey,” Ashley says.  “Really.  What’s wrong?”

 

Steve shakes his head again and walks toward her.  She sets down the plastic bag she is holding and meets him in the middle of the living room.  She reaches out, running her hands over his chest.  “You okay?” she asks again.

 

He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again.  Then, without thought, he ducks his head, kissing her deeply.  She startles a bit but immediately responds, pulling him close.

 

He doesn’t know what was going on.  He doesn’t know how to get things back under control.  He pushes Ashley back against the kitchen cabinets.  His hands find the hem of her skirt and pull it upward.  She seems surprised, but game.  She helps him push her underwear down until she can kick them away.  He lifts her and she hooks a leg around his waist as he pushes his sweats and shorts down.  He buries himself inside her in one long thrust.  She clings to him, breathy whines issuing from her throat, her short fingernails biting into his upper arms.

 

There’s no reason he should be so close, but he is.  He ignores Ashley’s blonde hair, instead picturing brunette.  He comes, his cheek pressed to hers.  She waits there, holding him.  Slowly, he withdraws and lowers her back to the ground.  Once she is steady on her feet, he drops to his knees in front of her, pressing her back against the cabinets.  He pulls one of her legs over his shoulder and buries his face at the juncture of her thighs.  Her clit is engorged and she is slick.  He sucks her clit into his mouth, stretching her with his fingers.

 

She comes with a shout, pulling his hair, hard.  Her legs give out and he scoops her up, carrying her upstairs.

 

* * *

 

Two days later, he knocks on Peggy’s door again.  She has an honest to God lollipop and she leans against the door, looking at him as she sucks on it.  Shaking his head, he pushes past her and into the townhouse.  She closes the door and follows him to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he paces back and forth.

 

“No more of Bucky watching,” he says seriously.  “No more.  I’m done.  It happens again and I’m out.”

 

She takes the lollipop out of her mouth with a pop.  “Okay.”

 

Steve narrows his eyes at her and she retaliates by rolling her eyes.  She reaches over and tosses the lollipop into the trashcan.  “So,” she says, “wanna fuck?”

 

* * *

 

He pins her hands against the bed, over her head as he drives into her.  She arches underneath him, moaning loudly, wrapping her legs more tightly around his waist.  “ _Yes_ ,” she hisses, her muscles cording.

 

Her internal muscles flutter around his cock and he’s lost.  He drives into her one last time, coming.  He collapses on top of her, his face pressed into the hollow of her neck.  He can’t do this with Ash.  She’s too short, too ... breakable.

 

Thoughts of Ashley have him groaning and withdrawing.  He pushes himself into a sitting position and throws his legs over the side of the bed.  He drags a hand roughly through his hair.  Peggy rolls onto her side, propping her head up on her fist as she looks at him.  Steve wonders for the thousandth time what the hell he’s doing.

 

“She’s happier now, you know,” Peggy says blandly.

 

Steve glances over his shoulder at her as he reaches for his shorts and jeans, pulling them on.  “What’re you talking about?”

 

“Ashley,” she said, rolling onto her back, reaching out to touch him, fingertips playing along his bare back.

 

He looks at her.  “What’s that supposed to mean?  She’s happier now?”

 

“Just what I said,” Peggy replies flatly.  “She finds you easier to live with now.  Now that you’re in Brooklyn.  Now that you’re fucking me, though of course she doesn’t know that.”

 

He turns so his upper body is facing her.  “How am I easier to live with?”

 

She smiles at him then, in genuine amusement, the kind of smiles he used to get from her during the war, though never in this context.  “You’re nicer,” she says quietly, like she’s relaying a secret.

 

“I’m always nice,” he says sourly.

 

“No,” Peggy corrects, “your words are always polite.  There’s a difference.  You can say polite things and still be a distant and evasive asshole.  Trust me, Ashley knows.”

 

Steve sighs and shakes his head.  He really doesn’t want relationship advice from the woman he’s having an affair with, even if he’s afraid she’s right.  Steve knows he’s unfairly taken out his frustrations on Ashley.  He doesn't like it, but he can admit it.  To himself at least.  “Is she really happy?” he asks, in spite of himself.

 

“It’s all relative,” Peggy says blandly.  “She’s much happier than she was in Virginia.  Not as happy as she was when you first got together.  She knows you’re not in love with her, but she thinks you’re at least trying to make it work now.”

 

“I always tried to make it work,” he says grimly.

 

“I know,” Peggy says.  “But sometimes trying isn’t enough, Steve.  Despite all your angsting, you are genuinely happier now than you were two months ago.  That’s what she sees.”

 

He just looks at her.  On a daily basis, he’s eaten up by guilt and worry.  But it’s offset by a fierce joy, excitement and sense of belonging that he hasn’t had since they thawed him out.  Having people, even fucked up people, in his life who _remember_ him makes more of a difference than he ever imagined possible.  For all their faults, Peggy and Bucky don’t have preconceived notions about him.  He knew them both before he was Captain America.  They knew him as he became the man he is today.  

 

The truly terrifying part for Steve is the idea that all this insanity with Peggy is him becoming _more_ the man he truly is, rather than less.  He feels so lost.  But he wonders if this is just him finding his way.  God, it's fucking depressing.

 

He reaches down and snags his shirt off the floor, pulling it over his head.  “Yeah, well, I doubt Ash is going to thank you for sleeping with her husband.”

 

“No,” Peggy says, “probably not.”

 

He frowns.  “When did you know about me?” he asks, looking back at her.  “When did you know I didn’t die in that crash?”

 

She looks at him and takes a deep breath, her brow furrowing.  She frowns, shaking her head.  “It doesn’t work like that,” she says.  “There was awareness of you, through others, long before they woke me.  As soon as I opened my eyes, I knew you were out there, because they knew you were out there.  But it wasn’t until I saw you on that rooftop that I really understood who you were, and that you had survived.”

 

He frowns at her.

 

“It upsets you when I speak bluntly,” she says.  “It reminds you that I’m not the woman you knew in the war.”

 

He nods.  “Yeah.”

 

“You wonder if it could have been different,” she says.  “If I had found you before you found Ashley.”

 

“That too,” he says grimly.

 

“You wouldn’t have JJ,” she says.  “I can give you many things, Steve, but never a child.  They took that from me long ago.”

 

His brow furrows as he looks at her.

 

“Don’t worry,” she says, “I have no desire to raise a child, much less one who’s not my own.  I’ll watch over JJ.  But Bucky provides me with sufficient parenting opportunities.”

 

“Is that all that’s between you and Bucky?” Steve asks.

 

She looks at him.  “You know it’s not,” she says, “why do you even ask?”

 

“Because every now and then I hope that this situation isn’t as completely fucked up as it feels,” he says bleakly.

 

“Just own it, Steve,” she says blandly.  “It’s making your life more bearable.  And your wife’s getting better sex.”

  
END CHAPTER


	5. Chapter 5

Dr. Russo shines the light in Tony’s eyes, frowning.  Tony waves him off, blinking quickly.  “It wasn’t a hallucination,” he says firmly.  “Trust me.  I’ve had plenty of bad trips.  This wasn’t that.  That witch did something to me.”

 

“I believe you,” Russo says grimly, looking around at the team, minus Barton, who is busy having half of his torso rebuilt by Dr. Cho.

 

“Looking at the data we were able to recover from Strucker’s operation,” Banner says, “it looks like this is what they were working toward, trying to recreate experiments Hydra did after World War II.  They used Loki’s scepter to change the those kids on a molecular level.  Looks like there were scores of failures before the Maximoffs.”

 

“Failures?” Steve asks.

 

“Deaths,” Banner says flatly.  “It killed every test subject they had, except for this Wanda and Pietro Maximoff.”

 

“So, this girl, Wanda,” Steve asks, “that’s her power?  She can make people see things, get inside their heads?”

 

Banner shrugs.  “Given the data, yeah,” he admits, “that’s what it looks like.  There aren’t a lot of specifics on how her power works, or what, she can show people.  I’m guessing because whoever was doing the analysis didn’t know and wasn’t willing to find out first hand.”

 

“Yeah,” Natasha says, “but Steve got zapped too and he didn’t go on any bad acid trip.”  She frowns at Steve.

 

He shakes his head.  “She tried something.  It didn't seem to work so she shot some kind of energy at me and threw me down the stairs.  She’s powerful.  I got that much.  But she didn’t get inside my head.”

 

Banner scrolls through screens on the datapad, shaking his head.  “In all of their testing, Wanda could affect everyone.  Every single human she tried.  Hundred percent efficacy.  Not always the result she wanted.  Looks like she accidentally fried a few people.  But no one was unaffected."

 

Natasha looks back at Steve.  “So why not you?”

 

He puts his hands on his hips and shrugs.  “I don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

Steve is walking down the hall when Natasha grabs him and slams him back against the wall as hard as she can, which is not insignificant.  “You are such a shit liar, Rogers,” she curses.  “Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

 

He looks down at her, sighing.  “I don’t know,” he says.  Before she can reply, he cuts across her.  “That’s the truth, Nat.  I don’t know.”

 

She narrows her eyes at him.  “But you have theories.”  He sighs, slumping back against the wall.  Natasha is always tit for tat.  “It’s that sister, isn’t it?” Natasha presses.  “I fucking knew it, Steve.  How deep are you in?”

 

He just looks at her.

 

“ _Shit_ ,” she curses.  “Balls deep.”  She shakes her head, looking at the floor.  She looks back up at him.  “I don’t give a fuck if you’re cheating on your wife.  But if the Winter Witch did something to you, something that can keep that girl out of your head, we need to know what it is.  You saw what she did to Tony.  Just imagine if she did that to Bruce.  We can’t risk it, Steve.  If the sister can help, then we need her help.  Maximoff’s power isn’t anything that the rest of us can fight.  Maybe not even Thor.”

 

He takes a deep breath and purses his lips together, looking away.  “She doesn’t exactly play nice with others.”

 

“Make her,” Natasha says darkly, shoving him.  “She protected you for a reason.  Use that leverage.”

 

* * *

 

Peggy takes a deep breath, running her fingers through his hair, pulling him close.  They’re both spent, exhausted.  Her eyes are closed and it looks like she’s listening to music Steve can’t hear.  “Can you feel it?” he asks.  “What the little witch tried to do to me?”

 

“Echoes,” Peggy says, curling against him, making a contented sound.  

 

They’re at her townhouse.  Ashley thinks he’s still away on the mission, and he supposes he sort of is.  Natasha’s delivery notwithstanding, Steve knows Nat’s right.  The team is helpless in the face of Wanda Maximoff’s powers.  They need any advantage they can get.

 

“What did you do?” he asks.  “How did you keep her out?”

 

She sighs.  “Nothing intentional,” she says, opening her eyes and looking at him.

 

“Nothing intentional,” he presses.  “What does that mean?”

 

“It means that you belong to me,” she says.  “We have a bond, you and I.  And as a consequence, your mind rejects her, just as mine would.”

 

“Because I _belong to you_ ,” he says grimly.

 

“Always so dramatic,” she says again.  “I belong to you as well.  It’s a mutual relationship.  Symbiotic.  It has to be, otherwise it just ... dissolves.”

 

“So you can’t force people to do things?”

 

“Of course I can force people,” she says, frowning.  “Though I find it tedious.  But what you’re talking about isn’t compelling a weak mind.  It’s protection.  And protection is different.  It’s rooted in an entirely different strength."  She sighs.  "I wish I’d been strong enough to protect Bucky.”  She shakes her head.  “He was so damaged by the time my powers matured, it wasn’t possible.”

 

She pushes herself up into a sitting position, hugging her knees to her chest.  “I protect you without thinking.  Like breathing.  The same would be true for Bucky.”  She sighs.  “Other people ... I can protect.  If I’m close enough.  If I’m aware enough.  If I want to.  But it requires effort.”  She looks down at him.  “Protecting your mind is a form of self-preservation for me.”  

 

“Why?”

 

She smiles wryly.  “Because if I am not reflected in the mind of one I love, I do not exist.  You anchor me.  To this time.  This place.”

 

His brow furrows and he had no idea what to make of those words, what, if anything, they mean practically.  He sighs.  “Are you stronger than her?”

 

“Undoubtedly,” Peggy says, “simply by virtue of being seven decades her elder.  She is gifted.  But she hasn’t seen the things I’ve seen.  She hasn’t had time to come to know herself.  It makes her unpredictable, but defeatable.  Control eludes her.”

 

Steve sighs and reaches out, taking her hand.  She twines her fingers through his, looking at him curiously.  “How do you expect to explain me to your teammates?” she asks.

 

“I have no idea,” he admits.

 

* * *

 

“This is ... Peggy,” Steve says tightly, looking at the team the following morning.  They’re at the Tower.  Peggy is dressed for the occasion, in black from head to toe.  There’s almost no skin showing, but her outfit is so tight that it’s rather beside the point.  Her hair is loose and her lips are a perfect matte crimson.  He’s wearing jeans and a white t-shirt.  He knows they look completely out of place standing next to each other.

 

Banner approaches carefully, eyeing Peggy critically.  “And _she_ is how you were unaffected by Wanda?”

 

“As far as we can tell, yeah,” Steve says, bracing his hands on his hips.

 

Maria speaks up from the other side of the room.  “She doesn’t happen to live down the street from you, does she?”

 

Steve frowns.  He knew it was all going to come out.  He just thought he’d have more than thirty seconds of reprieve.  “Actually, she does.”

 

Banner looks at Maria.  “She’s his _neighbor_?”

 

Maria crosses her arms over her chest, eyeing both Steve and Peggy critically.  “She is now.  But he’s known her for a _long_ time.  Since World War II.  They were in the SSR together.  She was his liaison.  She went missing on one of Howard Stark’s salvage missions in the arctic.”  

 

Steve frowns, but gives a curt nod.  He knew Maria was going to look into things after he called her to dispose of those bodies.  He’s not shocked at what she found.  She wouldn’t be Fury’s second in command if she wasn’t capable of finding things no one wanted found.

 

“You read Strucker’s notes,” Maria says to Banner.  “The alpha case.  Whatever the hell Wanda Maximoff is, whatever Strucker was trying to turn her into, it was modeled on Peggy.  I think Wanda was supposed to be a more controllable version of Peggy.  And if you think Wanda’s powers are scary, then you should be very concerned about Peggy’s.”

 

Tony frowns.  “Descriptive and yet vague.  Examples?”

 

“We took a few would-be assassins out of her basement a while ago,” Maria says.  “They looked like hamburger and I’m pretty sure she did it all without physically touching them.”

 

Tony narrows his gaze at Steve.  “How the hell is she in _your_ head, boyscout?”

 

Peggy blinks at Tony and holds out her hand, palm up.  “Object lessons are so much more useful than words, don’t you agree, Mr. Stark?”

 

Tony looks at her proffered hand and then away, frowning.  She waits.  Slowly, Tony approaches and slides his palm against hers.  Peggy closes her eyes and takes a deep shuddering breath.  She opens her eyes and stares at Tony.  

 

“He saw you,” she says to the room.  “All of you.  Dead.  Shattered against the rocks of a far away realm.  While the Earth burned in the background.  And he knew it was his fault for not saving you.”

 

Tony snatches his hand away, glaring.  He hadn't told anyone the contents of his vision and it’s clear he doesn’t appreciate her description.

 

“Is that true?” Banner demands.  “Is that what you saw when Wanda attacked you?”

 

Peggy watches Tony, but he won’t meet her gaze.  “That’s pretty much it,” he admits.

 

“It’s a parlor trick,” Peggy says dryly.  “And poorly executed.  And yet, it has shaken Iron Man to his foundations.”

 

“ _Peggy_ ,” Steve says, his voice a clear warning.

 

“It was one hell of a parlor trick,” Tony snaps.

 

“Perhaps,” Peggy says, “if one is unaccustomed to parlor tricks.  Would you like me to show you one?”  

 

Tony starts to reply with what is, doubtless, a scathing comeback.  But before he can speak, Peggy closes her eyes.  Across the room, Tony stumbles.

 

“What the fuck - “ Natasha snaps, drawing a gun on Peggy.

 

Steve immediately steps in front of Peggy, but his attention is riveted on Tony.  

 

Tony shakes his head and seems to recover.  “I’m okay,” Tony says.  “I’m okay.”

 

Natasha lowers the weapon and Steve cautiously stands aside.

 

“That,” Peggy says, “was real.  Not a parlor trick.  Something rooted in truth and breath.  Not the wild conjuring of your deepest fears given free rein.  I trust you can feel the difference now, between reality and shadow.”

 

Tony’s eyes are glassy as he looks at her.  "How?"

 

"I knew him, very well.  Loved him."

 

He shakes his head.  “Yeah, fine,” he says.  “She’s the real deal.  Somebody figure out how the hell she can help us.  I’m gonna take a breather.”

 

* * *

 

After Tony leaves, the team splits up.  Natasha and Clint find high ground and observe the proceedings.  Banner and Maria stick close to Peggy, occasionally asking questions, running tests.  They confer over the data in hushed tones.

 

Steve looks at Peggy frowning as he steps close to her, speaking quietly.  “What did you do to Tony?”

 

She looks at him. “I showed him a memory.”

 

Steve’s brow furrows.  “One of yours?”

 

“No,” she says lightly, “one of his.  One he didn’t even know he had, but true none the less.”

 

“And what was this memory?” Steve presses.

 

“Howard,” Peggy says.  “On the day Tony was born.”  Peggy’s eyes are shiny, too shiny and she sniffles.  “The damage we do to others and ourselves.”  She shakes her head.  “Howard loved him, beyond reason.  I showed Tony a glimpse of that, let him feel it.”  She looks at Steve.  "Love is always more powerful than fear.  It has an easier route to our souls.  Hydra never understood that.  It’s why the Maximoffs were the only subjects who survived."

 

She sighs.  "But there are things Tony's fears have set in motion that cannot be stopped."

 

"What kind of things?" Steve demands.

 

"You'll see," she says quietly.  "We'll all see."

 

END CHAPTER


	6. Chapter 6

“Hey,” Steve says, reaching out to shake Sam’s hand.

 

Sam looks around the interior of Avengers Tower and whistles.  “Damn,” he says, “this isn’t half bad.”

 

Steve shrugs, marveling at the spectacle that is the interior of the Tower.  It is an architectural wonder, even if it isn’t to Steve’s particular taste.  “Style is very important to Tony.”

 

“Yeah,” Sam says, “doesn’t hurt to be loaded either.”

 

“No,” Steve agrees, taking a drink of beer, “it doesn’t.”  He shrugs.  “Or so I’ve heard.  I don’t really have that problem.”

 

Sam snorts.  “Yeah, me either.  I’m sure it’s a burden.”

 

“There you are,” Ashley says, tucking herself against Steve’s side.

 

Steve introduces Sam and Ashley.  They know of each other, but they haven’t actually met before since Sam hasn’t relocated from D.C. yet.  The three of them talk for a while, mostly about how ridiculous the rent is in the city.  Ashley brings Sam up to speed on their move and the new house.

 

The party is actually ... nice.  So far.  It’s too early to declare it a success.  And just as Steve thinks that, his universe turns on a dime.

 

“Is that Peggy?” Ashley asks, smiling.

 

Steve glances over his shoulder and, sure enough, there’s Peggy.  She’s been at the Tower since her meeting with the team earlier in the day and she swore she would stay out of sight.  And now she’s standing in the middle of the room in a tight little red dress - where did she even get that -  being as obvious as it’s possible to be.  Steve groans inwardly.  Across the room Natasha catches his eye and gives him the _you’re a fucking idiot and you deserve what you get_ look.  He doesn’t necessarily disagree as Ashley heads down the stairs and envelops Peggy in a hug.  Steve can see the light from the metaphorical oncoming train.  He just doesn’t have any idea how to get out of the way.

 

“So I guess Ash made friends,” Sam says, his eyes riveted on Peggy.  And with good reason.  She’s ... luminous.  Gorgeous, confident and very much in her element.

 

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly.  “Peggy.  She lives down the block.”  All of that is absolutely true.

 

Sam looks over at him, eyebrow arched.  “Ever need to borrow a cup of sugar?”

 

Steve takes another drink of beer.  “Ashley made me take brownies to her and her brother right after we moved in,” he says.  Also true.

 

Sam gives him a curious look, but doesn’t ask any more questions.  Ashley has her arm looped through Peggy’s and the pair climb the stairs to where Steve and Sam are standing on the walkway.  Ashley introduces Peggy to Sam.

 

The four of them stand there for quite a while, talking easily.  Peggy is funny, charming, and she flirts shamelessly with Sam.  Ashley seems genuinely relieved to have Peggy there, which kills a part of Steve.  He has no idea what explanation Peggy gave Ashley for being at the party, but whatever it was, Ashley seems to have accepted it.  After a while, some of the older vets are having a disagreement and they come get Ashley to referee.  She goes with them, smiling.  Sam, Steve and Peggy stand there, looking at each other.  

 

“This party’s boring,” Peggy says flatly.  She reaches over and takes Steve’s beer, draining it in three long swallows.  Sam arches an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything as Steve winces.  Peggy hands the empty bottle back to him.  “I’m going to find someone to play with.”  

 

Steve forces himself not to watch as she walks away.  Sam looks at him and shakes his head.  “You are so fucked, man.”

 

* * *

 

Steve finds Peggy later with Rhodey.  They appear to be having a great time, but Steve knows her well enough to know she’s faking it.  That isn’t what Peggy Carter looks like when she’s interested in what you’re saying.  It’s not even what she looks like when she wants to fuck you.  As much as Steve often feels completely out of his depth with Peggy and her mindgames, he realizes that he’s probably better positioned to understand her than anyone.  It’s a sobering thought.  He’s not sure he wants insight into Peggy’s mind.

 

Ashley finds Steve and she yawns none too subtly.  Steve looks down at her.  He knows she’s tired and wants to go home.  Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind going home either.  But the team gets together so rarely that he feels compelled to stay.  

 

Peggy suddenly steps into view.  She frowns at Ashley.  “I’m going to - “ Peggy says, pointing to the elevator, “head home.  I thought I’d let you guys know.”

 

“Maybe I can get a ride with you,” Ashley says, looking from Peggy to Steve.

 

He shrugs.  “Sure.”

 

“Oh, wait a minute,” Ashley says, “I promised to give something to Maria.”

 

Steve and Peggy watch Ashley head across the room.  Steve looks at Peggy.  “You’re leaving?  I thought you told Banner you’d stay for a few days.”

 

“I’ll be back,” she says.  “But the team will be otherwise occupied tonight.”

 

Steve frowns at her.  “What does that mean?”

 

She gives him a tight smile.  “You’ll see,” she says.  “Remember not to let your guard down.”

 

Ashley returns and she and Peggy head for the elevator.

 

* * *

 

JJ is awake when Steve looks in his room, shortly after dawn.  Steve is covered in dust, still wearing his clothes from the party.  He hasn’t slept at all and he just walked in the door.  “Hey, buddy,” he says, picking JJ up and taking him into his bedroom where Ashley is still under the covers.

 

Ashley stretches and yawns, but doesn’t actually look at him.  “What time did you get in?”

 

"Five minutes ago,” Steve says.

 

She rolls over and frowns, taking in his disheveled appearance.  She sits up.  “What happened?”

 

Steve sighs and sits on the bed, giving her a very abbreviated and heavily edited version of events.  He rubs the back of his neck with his hand.  “I’m gonna shower,” he says.  “And then I have to head back in.”

 

She is clearly worried, but she nods and gathers JJ close.

 

Forty-five minutes later, Steve is down the block, pushing through the front door of Peggy’s townhouse.  “You knew that was going to happen,” Steve bellows at her.  He’s shaking with anger and frustration.  “Someone could have been killed.”

 

“But no one was,” Peggy says blandly.

 

He grabs her upper arms, slams her back against the wall.  She looks at him placidly.  “I know the things I can affect and the things I cannot,” Peggy says.  “I do not meddle where I have no influence.  Tony set events in motion and now they must play out.”  She narrows her gaze at him.  “I even made sure your wife was out of harm’s way.”

 

Steve growls and releases her, pacing in a tight circle.  “We’re leaving within the hour, headed for the African coast to track down some arms dealer who traffics in vibranium.”  He looks at Peggy.  “I assume you already know about Ultron.”

 

She nods.  “I’ll change.”

 

* * *

 

The team doesn’t seem particularly thrilled to have Peggy in their midst.  But they seem to have reluctantly agreed that she’s better than being left to face Wanda alone.  They have a hell of a fight with Ultron and his legion.  They can’t deal with Wanda on top of that.  And Steve knows that is exactly the scenario.  Cold math.  Peggy has done virtually nothing to endear herself to the team, which frustrates the hell out of Steve mostly because he feels like it undermines his entire position.  For no reason other than that she feels like being difficult.

 

Steve watches as Peggy and Dr. Banner sit on the floor of the Quinjet, facing each other.  Peggy’s fingertips rest lightly against Banner’s scalp.  Her eyes are closed, but his are open and riveted on her face as he frowns.

 

“Did you have to do this to Steve?” Banner asks.

 

“No,” Peggy says.  “Shut up.”

 

“Why not?” Banner presses.

 

“Because I know Steve far better than I know you,” she says.  “Shut up.”

 

Banner sighs, still frowning as he closes his eyes.  

 

“Turn around,” Peggy says.  Opening his eyes, Banner frowns, but maneuvers himself a hundred and eighty degrees, so his back is to Peggy.  “Now lay back,” she says.

 

Awkwardly and obviously ill at ease, he lays back, resting his head in Peggy’s lap.  Again, she places her hands against his scalp.  “Better.”

 

“Is that really necessary,” Tony asks skeptically.

 

“Only if you want me to keep the witch out of his head,” Peggy replies dryly.

 

Tony frowns.  “You didn’t have cuddle time of the rest of us - well, maybe Rogers.  Sure you’re not just trying to have some fun?”

 

“None of the rest of you are this complex,” Peggy says pointedly, looking up at Tony, who gives her a sour look in reply.  “You, in particular Mr. Stark, were incredibly straightforward.”

 

Steve sits there and watches Banner laying with his head in Peggy’s lap. It’s not precisely a possessive feeling that Steve has toward Peggy.  But he’s aware that there’s a low level irritation with their positions.  Not that he thinks Banner has designs on Peggy.  Surely Banner’s smart enough to avoid her, even if Steve isn’t.  And it’s not like Steve has any right to dictate who Peggy spends time with.  He already knows she’s sleeping with Bucky.  And Steve’s married.  It’s hardly an exclusive arrangement.  But he’s still irritated.  And irritated that he’s irritated.  How did he get in this mess?

 

Peggy looks over at him and gives him a small smile.  He has no idea what that means, if anything.

 

* * *

 

Dr. Banner looks over at Peggy.  They’re standing on the Quinjet’s ramp, watching as the team heads for the ship in drydock.  “You don’t need to go with them?” Banner asks.

 

“The witch will not be able to affect them,” she tells him.  “And my time is better spent here.”

 

He crosses his arms over his chest, looking at her.  “Why?”

 

She looks at him.  “You are the prize, Dr. Banner.  You know that.  The same was true when Loki hatched his plan.  The witch has powers beyond the ability to affect perception.  They will have to fight her.  But if she gets to you it’s an entirely different level of destruction.”

 

“And you’re worried about the collateral damage,” Banner says dryly.

 

“I care nothing for the collateral damage,” she says.  “I care for what it would do to you.  And in turn, what it would do to Natasha.”

 

Banner is quiet for several long moments.  “Why do you care about Natasha?”

 

“Because I was her.  Once.”  She looks at him. “She deserves whatever dubious comfort she can find in this life.”

 

He narrows his gaze.  “That seems a bit altruistic for you.  You don’t strike me as one to take on charity cases out of the goodness of your heart.”

 

She stares across the landscape, waiting.  “You don’t think I’m capable of compassion?”

 

He pauses.  “No,” he says.  “Not really.  Especially when it comes to the comfort of strangers.  You looked pretty friendly with Ashley the other night.”

 

“I like Ashley,” she says quietly.

 

“Yeah,” Banner says, “you like her husband too.”

 

“Is that what this is about?” she asks, sounding bored.  “You take umbrage over my relationship with Steve?”

 

“It seems messed up,” Banner presses.  “And completely out of character for Steve.  It doesn’t seem like your compassion extends to what’s best for him.”

 

“So I should leave him alone, is that what you’re saying?” she says, finally looking at him.  “You think it would be a kindness for me to abandon him in this time.”

 

“He’s not alone,” Banner says pointedly.  “He has people.”

 

She nods.  “If you believe that, then you have no insight into him at all.”

 

“Are you sleeping with him?” Banner asks bluntly.

 

“I don’t sleep,” she says flatly.

 

Banner shakes his head.  “I think Steve is a really good guy.  And whether there’s anything physical going on between you or not, I think you’re putting him in a really bad position.  Not for him.  For you. Because it’s what you want.”  He turns and walks up the ramp into the Quinjet.

 

* * *

 

“You okay?” Steve yells.  “Banner!  You okay?”

 

Banner finally looks at him and nods.  Banner’s gaze immediately turns back to the young woman unconscious in the middle of the Quinjet’s floor. Natasha goes to his side, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other against his abdomen.  He looks at her and nods.  “I’m okay.”

 

Tony and Thor venture closer, looking down at Wanda.  Steve takes off his helmet and crosses the jet to Peggy.  Her attention is riveted on Wanda.  Tentatively, he reaches out and touches Peggy’s forearm.  Her head snaps toward him and for a moment, he’s afraid she’s going to lash out, but she shudders and takes a deep breath.  “Steve.”

 

He steps directly in front of her, looking into her eyes.  “You okay?”

 

She nods.  “It was ... harder than I expected,” she admits quietly.

 

Steve glances over his shoulder at Wanda.  “She was stronger than you thought?”

 

“No,” Peggy says.  She looks up, meets his eyes.  

  
  


END CHAPTER


	7. Chapter 7

Peggy watches as Wanda wakes and immediately scrambles backward until her back is against the side of the Quinjet.  Her hands are out in front of her, tendrils of red, twining through her fingers.  “What are you doing?” she demands.

 

“You’re our  _ guest _ ,” Tony says, frowning.  “And I’d suggest you calm down.”

 

Wanda shakes her head as if trying to clear it.  She looks up as Peggy steps forward.   _ You should do as Stark says _ , Peggy advises.  Not speaking, but pressing the thoughts directly against Wanda’s mind, feeling her consciousness tremble at the contact.

 

Slowly, Wanda lowers her hands and the red retreats from her eyes.  She stares up at Peggy with obvious trepidation.  “My brother?” she says.

 

“Will undoubtedly be along shortly,” Peggy says.  “He will find you.”

 

“If he - “

 

“We won’t hurt him,” Peggy says firmly.  “As long as he gives us no reason to hurt him.”  

 

Peggy turns and walks over to the bank of seats on the opposite side of the jet, aware that Steve is watching her.  She takes a seat and watches Natasha and Bruce talk quietly as they buckle in.  Tony and Barton secure Wanda before they get ready for takeoff.  

 

Steve stands there, next to Peggy, looking down at her.  She doesn’t acknowledge him and he finally takes a seat next to her, sighing deeply as he buckles in.  “Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

 

She doesn’t answer.  She can’t.  

 

Peggy has no idea how to explain to him what happened when she fought Wanda.  Peggy doesn’t understand it herself, not yet.  He reaches out, like he’s going to touch her, and she immediately pulls away, curling in on herself, shifting in her seat so she is turned away from him.

 

* * *

 

Peggy wakes when they arrive back at the Tower.  She blinks slowly, forcing her eyes to focus.  When was the last time she slept?  When was the last time she dreamed?  She honestly can’t remember.  Steve is on the other side of the jet, with Wanda, but he keeps glancing over at Peggy.

 

She ignores him, exiting the jet and heading for the elevator.  She goes immediately to the small apartment she used several days earlier.  She runs for the bathroom and falls to her knees in front of the toilet, retching violently.  There’s nothing in her stomach but acid and bile.  Shivering in disgust, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and flushes.  Pushing herself to her feet, she pulls off her clothes and turns on the water in the shower.  It’s scalding hot, but that’s what she wants.  She steps under the spray, leaning back against the tiled wall.  Slowly, she sinks to the ground, pulling her knees up, hugging them to herself as she rests her head against them.

 

A long while later, Peggy stares at herself in the bathroom mirror.  She knows, objectively, that she looks the same as she did a day ago.  But it’s as if she’s seeing herself for the first time in seventy years.

 

She looks down at her hands.  They’re her hands, but they feel so ... alien.  She remembers everything.  That seems to be her curse, to always remember everything.  But the memories, rather than being a random assortment of events, now have clear demarcations.  The memories that  _ belong to her, _ and other random bits.  For years and years, a multitude of experiences were jumbled together.  Peggy never knew where she ended and someone else started.  But now there are walls, separation, between herself and that which is not her.

 

There’s a knock at the apartment door.  Peggy reaches out with her mind and brushes gently against him.   _ Steve _ .  She takes a deep breath, her heart racing.  Oh, God,  _ Steve _ .  The things she’s done with him, the things she’s done  _ to him _ , to his life, to his family.  Steeling her nerve, she shrugs into the bathrobe hanging on the back of the door and walks through the apartment.  Slowly, she opens the door a crack, looking at him.

 

He’s frowning, obviously worried.  “Peg?”

 

She wants to say something to him, but ...  _ God _ , what can she say?  What can possibly start to explain her behavior?  She’s done so much damage.  She steps aside, holding open the door and he walks cautiously into the apartment.

 

She hears him open his mouth and she blurts out, “I’m hungry.”

 

He frowns at her.  “There’s food upstairs.”

 

She nods.  “You’ve never seen me eat, have you?” she asks.

 

He opens his mouth again, to say something and then shuts it, frowning harder.  He shakes his head.  “No.”

 

She winces.  “Doesn’t that seem weird?”

 

His expression is more than a little exasperated.  “A lot of things about you seem weird.”

 

She laughs mirthlessly.  Truer words have never been spoken.  Without looking at him, she says, “I need to see Bucky.”

 

“Okay,” he says quietly.  “Let’s go upstairs.  You can get something to eat and I’ll borrow one of Stark’s cars and drive you home.”

 

She nods.  She rode to the Tower with him on his bike yesterday morning.  But she’s not in the mood to climb on with him.  And more to the point for Steve, she suspects, they can’t talk if they take the bike.

 

* * *

 

In the car, Steve says, “Help me understand what happened with Wanda.  You said it was harder than you expected, but not that she was stronger than you expected.  I don’t ... I don’t understand what that means.”

 

Peggy shakes her head.  “I expected to ...  _ fight  _ Wanda,” she says.  “It wasn’t a fight.”

 

Steve shakes his head.  “I still don’t understand.”

 

“Wanda is powerful,” she says quietly.  “Untrained.  But powerful.  Raw.  I expected - “ she falls silent.  She expected Wanda’s mind to feel like all of the other minds she’s touched.  But it wasn't.  It wasn’t like anything Peggy has ever experienced.  

 

“You expected?” Steve prompts.

 

“I expected to overpower her, to read her, the way I can read everyone.  But she wasn’t ... porous.  She was smooth.  Like glass.  Like a mirror,” she says.  And that’s it.  Wanda’s mind was like a mirror.  It reflected Peggy back at herself and that is what tilted her world on its axis.

 

“She was - “ Peggy starts.  “She couldn’t keep me from affecting her.  I’m too ...  _ much _ .  I can overpower her, force her in directions, easily.  But I can’t read her, really.”

 

Steve is quiet and she knows that nothing she’s said has helped him understand.  Peggy knows he didn’t know how different she was from the woman he knew in the war.  Peggy looked the same, sounded the same.  And she was never one to be terribly forthright.  She left a lot of blanks and he filled them in because he wanted her to be that woman.  He needed her to be familiar.

 

The back window shatters with a loud crack that startles both her and Steve.  Peggy stares at it, hands shaking.  She can’t remember the last time her powers got away from her.  The rest of the windy drive to Brooklyn is in silence.  

 

He finds a place down the block from her townhouse and parks the car.  Turning off the engine, he twists in his seat to face her.  “Can you explain it again?” he asks.  “Slowly.”

 

She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself.  “When she came for Banner, I stopped her,” she says quietly, carefully.  “I expected it to be difficult.  I expected her to be somewhat of an equal.  She wasn’t.”  Peggy looks out the window, staring blindly at the row of townhouses.  “And when I stopped Wanda, it ...  _ changed _ something inside of me.  Forced some order into the chaos in my mind.”  She looks at him.  “I know that doesn’t make sense to you.  It barely makes sense to me.  All I know is that I’m not the same person I was yesterday.”  Peggy takes a shaking breath.  “I don’t know what I am.”

 

“Peggy - “ he reaches out toward her again and she immediately retreats against the car door, fumbling for the handle.  

 

She opens the door and stumbles out onto the sidewalk.  She jogs for the townhouse and goes inside, not necessarily running from Steve.  She’s not afraid of him.  But she needs space from him and his expectations and confusion.

* * *

 

Steve knocks on the door the next morning and when no one answers, he tries the handle.  It’s unlocked.  He opens the door.  The townhouse is dark and quiet.  Max brushes against his legs and Steve walks to the back door, letting him out into the small yard.  Steve knows Peggy and Bucky here somewhere.  Carefully, he heads up the stairs.  

 

Peggy’s bedroom is empty and the door to Bucky’s room is shut.  Taking a deep breath, Steve pushes the door open.  Peggy and Bucky are lying on the bed, Peggy spooned around Bucky’s larger form.  They’re both clothed, on top of the covers.  Bucky’s skin is covered with a sheen of perspiration and Peggy is awake, staring at the ceiling.

 

Steve stands in the doorway.  “Is he okay?”

 

Peggy nods.  “It was a rough night, but I think he’ll be better after this.”

 

“Did you do something to him?”

 

Sighing, Peggy unwraps herself from Bucky and pushes herself up, scooting back against the headboard, looking at Steve.  She seems to be avoiding making eye contact.  Her clothes are different.  She’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and loose t-shirt that probably belongs to Bucky.  A far cry from the provocative clothing she usually wears.  “I gave him back as much of himself as I thought he could handle,” she says.

 

Steve crosses his arms over his chest.  “You said that had to be done slowly, over months.  Did that change with whatever Wanda did?”

 

Peggy nods.  “Whatever happened to me, it made it easier for me to separate the parts of me that belonged to Bucky. I didn’t give it all back to him.  But I gave him the important moments.  There is still months of work ahead of us.”  She reaches down and brushes Bucky’s hair back from his face. “He needs time to mend.”

 

“So this ... this order out of chaos,” Steve says, “what does that really mean for you?”

 

She finally looks up, meeting his gaze.  “It means I remember who I am,” she says quietly.  “Or who I should be.”

 

He nods.  “And who is that?”

 

She shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes.  “Not someone who seduces a married man and threatens to wreck his life.”  She looks away, biting down on her bottom lip.  She takes a deep breath, staring at the wall, forcing herself under control. “I loved you Steve.  I never intended to tear your life apart.  I would never wish you harm.”

 

He stands there, having no idea how to respond.  He knows that regardless of what she did, he was complicit.  And as much as it disturbs him, there’s a fear, a fear that he’s losing her.  When she was never free to be his.  He clears his throat.  “So you and I - “

 

“Are done,” she says vehemently, looking at him.  “ _ Done _ .”

 

He blinks at her, having no idea how to respond.  He knows he should feel relieved.  But he doesn’t.  He settles for changing the subject.  “Hill called.  Wanda’s restless.  They want you back at the Tower before the brother shows up.”

 

She nods, looking at Bucky again.

 

“Will he be okay alone?”

 

“He should be fine,” she says.  “He needs rest.”

 

* * *

Someone has already picked up Tony’s car, presumably to repair the back window.  Steve drives them to the Tower in his piece of shit late model Honda, the one Ashley uses when she don’t have JJ with her.  Peggy thinks about the little boy and she feels sick to her stomach.  The things she’s done to his parents, to his family.

 

Peggy knows she didn’t do it alone.  She knows that Steve and Ashley bear responsibility, but she can’t lie to herself.  She instigated all of it.  She pushed for all of it.  She manipulated and used her abilities to influence them.

 

“Peggy,” Steve says quietly.  “I don’t think we should make any rash decisions.  I think we - “

 

“I had sex with your wife,” she says, staring blindly out the windshield.

 

He’s quiet for a long time and finally says, “ _ What _ ?”

 

“After the party,” she says.  “When I took Ashley home.  I had sex with her.  In your bed.”

 

“ _ Jesus _ ,” he curses under his breath.  “Why?”

 

“Because I wanted to,” she says.  “Because I wanted to know what you saw in her.  Because I thought it would make things easier if and when she found out about us.  How much could she blame you, if she did the same thing?”  She takes a deep breath.  “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to lie anymore.”

 

He nods, but she knows she just threw his entire world into even more chaos.  “Are you going to tell Ash about you and me?” he asks.  “Did you already tell her?”

 

She shakes her head.  “No,” she says.  “I’m not going to tell her.  That’s up to you.”

 

“And if I don’t tell her?” he challenges.

  
“You will,” she says quietly.  She turns her head and looks at him.  “You’re a good man, Steve.  I’m sorry for making you doubt that.”

 

END CHAPTER


	8. Chapter 8

It’s later, the same day as Steve’s disastrous discussion with Peggy.  He’s sitting at one of his kitchen chairs, leaning forward, elbows braced on his thighs, staring at the floor.  Ashley stands in the middle of the kitchen.  JJ is asleep upstairs.

 

“I know about you and Peggy,” he says, trying to keep his tone even.

 

Steve takes a deep breath, drags a hand through his hair.  He glances at Ashley again, her mouth is working, but no sound is coming out.  She’s pale with bright splotches of color on her cheeks and neck.

 

“I, uh,” Steve says.  He shakes his head, unable to look at her.  “I slept with her too.”

 

Ashley’s mouth snaps shut, her teeth clacking together audibly.  

 

“I’ve known her since 1943,” he says, wincing, knowing he’s trying to explain something that can’t be explained.  “She was my liaison during the war.  She tracked me down.”  He frowns.  “She was more than my liaison.  We, uh.”  He clears his throat.  “I loved her.  I’m pretty sure she felt the same way.”

 

“How long have you been ...” Ashley demands.

 

“I thought she was dead.  That night in Washington, when all hell broke loose,” he says.  “Her brother, Bucky, was the shooter.  I chased him down.  I saw her.  They’re the ones who dragged me out of the Potomac.  Saved me.  They followed us to Brooklyn.”

 

“So you’ve been ...  _ fucking _ her since Washington,” Ashley says, her voice shaking with emotion.

 

He frowns, his teeth grinding together.  “No.  Since we moved to Brooklyn, just before you ran into her in the park that first time.”  He takes a breath.  “She was watching you and JJ.  Protecting you.  There were mercenaries after you.  I didn’t know it at the time.  She stopped them.”  He pauses.  “Peggy’s been unwell, she’s not - “

 

Ashley turns on her heel and marches up the stairs.  The house shakes with the force of her slamming the bedroom door.  Several moments later, he hears JJ begin to cry.

 

Steve scrubs a hand over his face.  “Shit.”   

 

He heads upstairs and soothes JJ back to sleep.  Steve packed a bag, just in case.  If he’s truthful, he packed a bag because he knew this is exactly what was going to happen.  He cleans up the kitchen, writes Ash a note and turns off the lights.  He locks the door behind himself and walks down the block.

 

Bucky looks at him, seeming to actually recognize him.  Maybe for the first time.  “Punk.”

 

“I need to crash on your couch,” Steve says, holding up the bag.

 

Bucky shrugs.  “You can have Peg’s bed if you want,” he says.  “She’s not here.”

 

Steve nods, stepping into the house and tossing his bag on the couch.  Peggy’s at the Tower.  He didn’t bother asking her how long she’d be there, mostly because he doubted she would answer him.  But he expects that she’ll be staying there for the time being.  It seems like both he and Bucky are currently problematic for Peggy.

 

Steve laughs mirthlessly to himself.  The more he tries to do the right thing, the shittier his life gets.

 

* * *

 

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, watching the Maximoff twins.  He looks over at Banner.  “So we’re welcoming them to the group now?”

 

Banner shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “Peggy was able to show Wanda the plans Ultron has in store for humanity.  Apparently it was enough for her to have a change of heart.  The brother seems to be going along with it.”

 

“At least we managed to throw a wrench in his plans,” Steve says.  “We got the vibranium from Klaue.  And Helen’s here.”

 

“Yeah,” Banner says.  “Tony’s still in Norway trying to piece JARVIS back together.  He’s supposed to be headed back today.”

 

“That still doesn’t put us any closer to finding Ultron.”

 

“No,” Banner says, his frustrations evident, “it doesn’t.”

 

Steve nods.  He looks across the room at Peggy.  He knows she’s aware of him, but she won’t look at him.  He knows that’s probably for the best.  They each individually have more than enough to sort out right now.  But it makes him irrationally angry.  

 

Steve glances at his watch.  He grabs his jacket and heads for the elevator.

 

* * *

 

Steve knocks and waits.  The next door neighbor, Mrs. Weinstein, gives him a suspicious glance, which Steve chooses to ignore.  He knocks again and shifts JJ in his arms.

 

Ashley finally opens the door and then stands aside so he can come in.

 

JJ immediately holds his hands out to Ashley and she cuddles him close.  Steve hasn’t missed how quiet JJ is today.  He can’t possibly understand what’s happening, but he obviously knows something is wrong.

 

“I’m going to be shipping out soon,” Steve says.  “I don’t know when, exactly.  Or where.  It’ll be a few days at least.”

 

Ashley looks him up and down.  “Is Peggy going with you?”

 

He sighs, placing his hands on his hips.  “Yeah,” he says.  “She is.  She’s ... special.  Enhanced.”

 

“Of course she is,” Ashley says.  “Just like you.”

 

He purses his lips together.  “Not like me.  Her powers are something ... extraordinary.  That’s why she’s going.  It doesn’t have anything to do with my relationship with her.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Ashley says, laughing bitterly.  “What’s wrong with me?  How could I suggest something so absurd.”

 

Steve takes a deep breath.  He knows he earned this.  “Peggy and I aren’t together,” he says flatly.  “Not in any way.  Not physically, not romantically.  We’re both working this mission, that’s all.”

 

Ashley looks at him, eyes narrowed.  “Where did you sleep last night?”

 

“On Bucky’s couch,” Steve says.  “I don’t want to be too far from you or JJ in case anything happens.”  He sighs.  “And Peggy isn’t there.  She moved out.  She’s staying at the Tower.  I think.  I guess I haven’t really asked.  She isn’t speaking to me.”

 

Ashley shakes her head incredulously.  “Great.  That makes me feel so much better to know that you destroyed our marriage for nothing.”

 

Steve frowns, looking at the floor.  “Neither of us meant for it to happen.  It was a mistake.”  He glances at her.  “Surely you know what that’s like.”

 

Ashley flinches.  “One time is a mistake,” she bites out.  “Fucking someone for months isn’t a  _ mistake _ .”

 

He stands there.  There’s nothing he can say to defend himself.  She’s right.  He knew it was wrong, and he kept doing it.  

 

“Do you love her?”

 

Steve looks up and meets Ashley’s gaze.  He blinks quickly and looks away, lips pursed tightly together.  “I don’t know where the team is heading for sure,” he says.  “But if you need anything, call the Tower.  I asked Bucky to check in on you.  I thought maybe JJ would like to see Max.”

 

“Fine,” Ashley bites out.

 

* * *

 

“Uh, hi,” Banner says, sliding into the chair across the table from Peggy.  “I’m not sure we’ve met.  I’m Bruce.”

 

She gives him a tight smile.  “Yes, Dr. Banner, I remember.”

 

He nods and smiles.  “You just seem like ... not quite the same person these days.  I know a little bit about what that’s like.”

 

She looks at him critically.  “Yes,” she says, “I suppose you do.”

 

He rotates his coffee cup on the table, watching the liquid slosh.  “I hear that Steve and Ashley are having problems.”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” she says tightly.  “You’d have to ask Steve.”  With that, she rises to her feet and leaves.

 

* * *

 

Peggy tries on the jacket.  It’s Hill’s. It fits okay, provided she doesn’t try and zip it over her chest.  It’s not stylish, but it’s serviceable and that’s all Peggy needs.  She pushes the sleeves up and turns to find Dr. Banner standing there, looking sheepish.

 

“Apologies,” he says, “about that earlier.  I didn’t mean to pry.”

 

“Yes you did,” Peggy says dryly.

 

He looks at her.  “Yeah, okay, I did.”  He shrugs.  “You seem like you could use a friend, is all.  So ... that’s it.  I’m here.  If you need someone to talk to.  Or not talk to.  I’m great at not talking.”

 

She doesn’t respond and he eventually turns to leave.

 

* * *

 

“You and Ashley trying to work things out?” Natasha asks, leaning back against the wall as Steve finishes checking his gear.

 

He looks up at her and frowns.  “Not really, no,” he says.  It’s weird to say it out loud.  He’s trying to salvage some sort of relationship with Ashley.  They have a son together.  He doesn’t want to be at war with her.  

 

Natasha nods, not seeming surprised.  And Steve supposes it isn’t a surprise.  Not to anybody who really knew them.  Maybe it’s a surprise it lasted as long as it did.  He and Ashley were a bad fit from the start.  They both wanted to make it work.  Steve tried to give it his all.  But it wasn’t enough.  There was never enough between them to hold them together.

 

“And you and Peggy?” Natasha asks.

 

Steve shakes his head.  “I’m crashing on Bucky’s couch.”

 

Natasha is quiet and Steve feels like an ass.  “He’s changed,” he says.  “I don’t know that he’s the man he used to be.  I don’t know that he can ever be that man again.  But he’s not Hydra’s weapon anymore.”

 

“Yeah,” Natasha says evasively.  “I guess we’ll see.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly.  I guess we’ll see.”

 

END CHAPTER


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how divorces work in New York. I assume this is at least as accurate as your average Law & Order rerun.

On the Quinjet, Peggy takes a seat as far from Steve as she can manage.  He tries not to take it personally, though it obviously is personal.  She needs space.  Steve gets that.  He needs space too.  He has to figure things out with Ashley.  And he knows he needs to do that without the influence of any potential relationship with Peggy.

 

But he still wants Peggy.  There doesn’t seem to be anything he can do about that, so he tries to ignore it.

 

Banner takes a seat next to Peggy and she’s talking to him.  Steve suspects she’s talking to Banner mostly to give herself something to do, rather than out of any real desire to talk to Banner.  At least, that’s what Steve hopes.  He can’t imagine Peggy and Banner together.  They’re a bad fit.

 

Steve leans back against the hull and crosses his arms over his chest.  Natasha takes a seat next to him.

 

“Carter seems to be awfully friendly with Bruce lately.”

 

Steve looks over at her.  There’s something in her tone.  If it were anyone else, it would be a bland statement of fact.  But he knows Natasha well enough to be able to read her annoyance.  “You don’t like her with Bruce.”

 

“I don’t like her with anyone,” Natasha says darkly.

 

Steve doesn’t ask if that extends to him.  

 

Or to Bucky.  

 

Steve has no idea what Natasha’s thoughts are on that relationship.  Or Peggy’s for that matter.  She spent seventy years with Bucky, and she walked away from him as surely as she walked away from Steve.

 

Steve sighs.  He’s always been able to sleep anywhere.  This is as good a time as any.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve looks at the carnage.  Strucker’s castle is leveled.  There’s smoking rubble everywhere.  

 

Peggy stands several feet away, surveying the wreckage.  She’s frowning, her brow puckered together.  It’s strange to see her in tactical gear, but he already knew she was a hell of a fighter.  But watching her fight now ...  She puts Wanda to shame.  And he knows Peggy is still trying to get a grip on how her own powers changed after her confrontation with Wanda.  She’s not comfortable.  Not yet.

 

Steve wonders how much damage she could have done if she had been comfortable in her powers.  He wonders if she has an upper limit.  And he knows he’s not the only one wondering.  He sees how Tony watches her.

 

“Is this what you saw?” Steve asks her.  “When you said that everything Tony set in motion had to play out?”

 

She shakes her head, glancing at him.  “This is ... better.  Less damage.”

 

Steve nods.  He suspects that’s the first time the team has ever done less damage than anticipated.  

 

“What about everything else?”

 

She looks at him.  “Everything else?”

 

He nods.  “You.  Me. Everything.  Is that going to be less damage than you anticipated?”

 

She swallows thickly and looks away.  “I doubt it.”  Without another word, she turns and walks away.

 

He shakes his head.  “Fuck.”

* * *

 

 

The political clean up from the disaster in Sokovia is surprisingly not too bad, though anyone and everyone is quick to point out that it was a disaster of Tony Stark’s making.  They have a point.  It distracts Tony, which Steve appreciates.

 

Steve finally moves off Bucky’s couch and into Peggy’s room, since it’s pretty clear she’s not coming back.  He’s tried asking Bucky what he thinks of Peggy’s departure, but Buck never says much.  Steve knows that whatever Peggy and Bucky had, it wasn’t what Peggy and Steve had.  Peg and Buck were never in love.  Though Steve thinks they probably came to love one another, in their own ways.  He can’t fathom being tied so tightly to another person without forming a profound bond.  Steve wonders if Bucky feels her absence as acutely as he does.  Or hell, maybe their bond remains, in spite of the physical distance.

 

Meanwhile, in the disaster that is Steve’s life, Ashley agrees to take Max.  This delights JJ, who loves the dog completely.  But Steve knows that JJ is having a hard time with all the change.  It’s not that he’s not accustomed to Steve being gone.  Steve’s work schedule has always made him a regrettably inconsistent figure in his son’s daily life.  Steve thinks he probably sees JJ more these days than he has in the past.

 

But JJ certainly hasn’t missed how acrimonious things are between Steve and Ashley.  Ashley’s angry and Steve completely gets that.  For his part, he tries his damndest to get along.  He doesn’t rise to her bait.  He does what she asks, even when he thinks she’s being ridiculous.  He had to bail on three separate missions to watch JJ, when he’s pretty sure the only thing Ash was doing was having coffee with friends.

 

None of his bending over backwards helps.  Steve isn’t surprised when he opens the door six weeks after he moved out, to find himself served with divorce papers.  He knew it was coming, but it still hits him hard.  He knew things were done with Ashley, but seeing the legal documents that will eventually dissolve their marriage, he can’t help but feel like a failure.

 

Bucky takes a seat on the couch next to Steve.  “Divorce papers?”

 

Steve sighs and sinks down on the couch.  “Yeah.”

 

“Sorry,” Bucky says, somewhat lamely.

 

“Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

Steve walks out of Hill’s office and nearly runs into Peggy.  They both stop, eyeing each other awkwardly.  Peggy notices the slip of paper Steve is holding and raises her eyebrow in question.  The fact that he’s holding a piece of paper makes Steve feel like a heel.  He knows if he was anyone else, Hill would have IMed or texted or emailed him the information.  But since he’s the resident nonegenarian, Hill actually wrote the information out longhand on a piece of paper.

 

Steve sighs, looking at Peggy.  “Lawyer,” he says, holding up the paper.  He puts his hands on his hips and shrugs.  “Ashley is suing me for divorce.  And alimony.  And sole custody of JJ.”

 

Peggy seems taken aback.  “Oh, I, uh.”  She blinks, frowning.  “My apologies.”

 

Steve shakes his head.  “Thanks.”  He starts to walk around her down the hall.

 

“Steve?”

 

He turns and looks at her.  She looks sad, upset, which pisses him off.  No one is trying to take her kid away from her.

 

“I am sorry,” she says quietly.

 

He nods.  “Yeah.  Thanks.”  He forces himself to stop. He turns back to Peggy, grasping for composure.  He doesn’t want to fight with her.  “I think Ash will probably be reasonable once she has a chance to calm down.  It’s just, you know, a lot.”

 

Peggy nods.  

 

* * *

 

Steve follows Ashley out into the hall outside the courtroom.  Her lawyer turns to him, holding his hand out.  “Captain Rogers, this isn’t a good idea.”

 

“Ashley,” Steve says.  He knows she can hear him, but she keeps walking.  “ _ Ashley! _ ”

 

Sam grabs Steve’s upper arm, tugging him back.  Shaking his head, Steve relents.  He turns, walking the opposite way.  Sam keeps pace.

 

“You know, man, having yelling matches in public isn’t going to help anything.”

 

Steve frowns, reaches in his pocket for his sunglasses, putting them on before they push through the doors.  There aren’t a ton of photographers.  Nothing like Tony Stark rates at a gallery opening.  But a dozen.  Captain America’s getting divorced.  It’s the American dream alright.  In all its glory.

 

He and Sam duck into the car, driven by Natasha.  Sam takes shotgun and Steve gets in the back.  

 

“How’d it go?” Natasha asks.

 

Steve shakes his head.

 

“It’s okay,” Sam says.  “So far nothing has been said in court about infidelity.  It’s your standard irreconcilable differences.”

 

Steve stares blindly out the window.  “Ash has a boyfriend.”

 

Natasha meets Steve’s eyes in the rearview mirror and then looks over at Sam.  “That true?”

 

Sam shrugs.  “There was some dude with her.  They looked ... friendly.  But we don’t know who he is.  He could just be a friend.”

  
“Ash doesn’t have male friends,” Steve bites out.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve slams the front door so hard the frame cracks.

 

Upstairs, he hears a box hit the floor, and a muffled curse.   _ Shit _ .  Peggy’s here.  He considers leaving.  He’s really not in the mood to talk to anyone, especially someone who has gone out of their way to avoid him.  But he doesn’t.  He walks into the kitchen and grabs a beer out of the fridge.  He leans forward, bracing his forearms on the counter and drinks the beer.

 

It’s several minutes before Peggy walks down the stairs.  She sets the box of her possessions on the floor by the couch.  She looks at the splintered front door and then over at Steve, sighing.  Crossing the room, she joins him in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter next to him.

 

“What happened?”

 

He nods his head, lips pursed together tightly.  “Ashley is still suing for sole custody,” he says.  “And pretty much my entire paycheck in alimony and child support payments.”

 

“I take it you’ve never petitioned the military for back pay, then?” she says.

 

He shakes his head.  “I’m going to have to now.  Otherwise I can’t afford to put gas in my bike.  Tony’s already spotting me for the lawyer.”

 

“And the custody arrangement?”

 

He nods again.  “The judge left it as is right now, fifty-fifty.  I’m going to fight her tooth and nail on it.  I fucked up.  I know that.  And I’m willing to make amends.  But she doesn’t get to take my son away from me just because she’s pissed.  I may be a shitty husband, but I’m a solidly average father.”

 

“You’re a good dad,” Peggy says gently.

 

Steve blows out a breath and hangs his head.

 

Reaching over, she puts her hand on his shoulder.  He looks up at her, and there’s a moment where their eyes meet.  It’s a connection.  But not the kind they’ve shared recently.  Not the kind that makes him want to bend her over the counter until she screams his name.  It’s a feeling of ... knowing someone and being known.  For that reason alone, it’s twice as terrifying as physical attraction.  

 

They’re standing so close together.  She looks different, more like the Peggy he remembers.  He feels raw, sad, lonely.

 

For just an instant, her grip tightens on his shoulder.  Then she shakes her head and pushes away.  “I can’t.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve says sourly, “I can’t either.”  He takes another drink of his beer.

 

She stands there for a moment.  “Do you want to come back to the Tower?  We could order a pizza.”

 

He laughs mirthlessly.  “You eat now,” he says, not looking at her.  “I forgot.”

 

“ _ Steve.” _

 

He shakes his head.  “Go away, Peggy.”

 

She stays, for another minute or two.  But eventually she turns, gathering up her box of possessions and leaving through the splintered door.  Steve takes the empty beer bottle and throws it against the wall as hard as he can.  He knows he’s being a petulant asshole.  He just can’t muster the will to care.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey,” Bruce says, taking a seat across from Peggy.  “How’s it going?”

 

She looks up at him, giving him a tight smile.  She likes Bruce, a lot.  She’s not sure what he’s avoiding by spending time with her, but it’s clear that it’s something.  She suspects it’s probably Natasha.  Once, not long ago, Peggy would have simply peeked inside his mind to find out.  But she doesn’t do that anymore.  She’s having to fall back on her natural powers of perception.  And she’s discovered they’re shockingly rusty.

 

Bruce arches an eyebrow at her plate.  “Pizza?”

 

She nods.  “I offered to split one with Steve if he would come back to the Tower, but he declined.”

 

Bruce nods, lips pursed together.  “Yeah, I know how that goes.”  He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table.  “I’ve spent a lot of time trying to make reparations for things I did while I wasn’t necessarily myself.”  He shakes his head.  “It never gets easier.”

 

“Indeed,” Peggy agrees.  “I assume that’s why you live such a solitary life.”

 

He shrugs.  “Hey, now, it’s nowhere near as solitary as it has been in the past.  I’m a regular social butterfly these days.”

 

“Ah,” Peggy says, “well, I can’t say I’m feeling like a social butterfly.”

 

“It’s hard,” Bruce says seriously.  “You need to give yourself time.  Space.”

 

“Yes, well, it seems that I have plenty of both.”

 

Bruce is silent for a while, staring at the tabletop.  “So you and Steve?”

 

Peggy shakes her head.  “There is no me and Steve.  He has so much to sort through with Ashley and his son.  I would be of no help.”

 

Bruce purses his lips together.  “You guys were really close once, right?” He seems to catch the double entendre and winces. “I don’t mean -  I mean, you were friends, right?  Good friends.”

 

“We were,” she agrees.  “A long time ago.  Before Hydra turned me into, whatever I am.  Before he was lost in the ice.”

 

“It’s important to have people who remember you,” he says.  “Especially when you do the kinds of things that we do day to day.  It’s good to have people who know that you’re human underneath it all.”

 

Peggy reaches out and puts her hand over Bruce.  “It is good,” she says meaningfully.  “Thank you.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

It’s just after nine the next morning when Steve knocks on the door.  Ashley opens it and JJ bounds out, running for Steve.  He scoops the little boy into his arms and is almost knocked down when Max runs into his legs.

 

He looks at Ashley.  She’s still in her pajamas, her hair in a messy ponytail.  “Hey.”

 

She crosses her arms over her chest.  “Hey.”

 

Steve takes a step forward to walk into the house and she bars the way.

 

“Ashley?” a voice calls from in the house.  Steve recognizes it.  It’s the guy from the courtroom yesterday.

 

Steve immediately bristles and Ashley steps out onto the stoop, hands up, placating.  She touches his chest, clearly trying to find something to say. 

 

She looks at JJ.  “Hey, Buddy, why don’t you go inside and get your bag, so you can go with Daddy.  It’s by the couch.”

 

Steve sets JJ down and the little boy goes inside, with Max following closely.

 

The second JJ is inside, Steve snaps, “Is that your new friend?”

 

Ashley looks contrite and she touches Steve’s chest lightly.  And he knows.  In that moment, he knows.  If that guy was just a friend, Ashley would have fought him on it.  But she’s embarrassed.  And in her pajamas. 

 

“Steve - “ she says quietly.

 

“He slept over while JJ is here?” Steve demands, livid.

 

She won’t meet his gaze.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t meant for it to - “  She looks up at him, frowning, straightening her spine.  “We’re getting divorced, Steve.  Moving on is inevitable.”

 

“Who is he, Ashley?  Do you even know?  How did you meet him?”

 

“Of course I know him,” she says hotly.  “His name is Jake.”

 

“How did you meet him?” Steve presses.

 

“He’s a - “  She looks away frowning.  She looks back at Steve.  “He’s a barista.”

 

Steve counts to ten in his head.  “Jake the barista is sleeping with my wife?  In my goddamn house?   _ While my kid is there _ ?”

 

“Don’t even start with me,” Ashley snaps.  “You think you’re better because you walked down the block before you nailed her?  We’re getting divorced.  I don’t owe you any explanations.”

 

“You do,” Steve counters.  “Where JJ is concerned you sure as hell do owe me explanations.”

 

JJ pushes through the door again and out onto the stoop.  Steve and Ashley stand there, furious with each other.  JJ starts down the stairs, his backpack dragging on the ground behind him, Max following closely, his tail wagging wildly.

 

“Daddy!” JJ calls.

 

“Coming, Buddy,” Steve says.  He gives Ashley a final, sour look before turning away and heading down the sidewalk with JJ.

 

* * *

 

 

“You doing okay?” Bucky asks.  

 

They’re sitting on a park bench together.  He’s not drinking his coffee and she’s not drinking her tea.  Peggy looks at him, knowing her eyes are glassy.  She smiles against the burn in her throat.  “Yeah,” she says.  “I’m okay.”

 

“Ya used to be a better liar, Peg,” he says, frowning at her.

 

She laughs and he wraps his arm around her pulling her close.  The laugh turns into a sob and she leans into him, pressing her face against his shoulder.  He holds her so tight.  She doesn’t know how long she cries, but her whole body aches.

 

She finally pulls away, wiping impatiently at her eyes.  She takes a drink of her tea, nodding at him.

 

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, reaching over and taking her hand.

 

“Do you really believe that?” 

 

He nods.  “I have to.  What other choice do we have?”

 

END CHAPTER


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